Hindi vs Marathi and the Contest Over Indian Identity
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™.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Japan Times
20 hours ago
- Japan Times
Indian firm shipped explosives to Russia despite U.S. warnings
An Indian company shipped $1.4 million worth of an explosive compound with military uses to Russia in December, according to Indian customs data, despite U.S. threats to impose sanctions on any entity supporting Russia's Ukraine war effort. One of the Russian companies listed as receiving the compound, known as HMX or octogen, is the explosives manufacturer Promsintez, which an official at Ukraine's SBU security service said has ties to Moscow's military. The official said that Ukraine launched a drone attack in April against a Promsintez-owned factory. The other Russian company is a subsidiary of Spanish explosives manufacturer Maxam, which is itself controlled by New York-based private equity firm Rhone Capital. The U.S. government has identified HMX as "critical for Russia's war effort" and has warned financial institutions against facilitating any sale of the substance to Moscow. According to the Pentagon's Defense Technical Information Center and related defense research programs, HMX is widely used in missile and torpedo warheads, rocket motors, exploding projectiles and plastic-bonded explosives for advanced military systems. The HMX sale to Russian firms has not been previously reported. Russian defense manufacturers have been working around the clock for the past several years to sustain President Vladimir Putin's war in Ukraine, which intensified with Russia's full-scale invasion of its neighbor in 2022. India, which has recently forged closer ties with the United States in an effort to counterbalance China's growing influence, has not abandoned its longstanding military and economic ties with Moscow. India's trade with Russia — especially its purchases of Russian oil — has remained robust, even as Western nations have tried to cripple Russia's war economy with sanctions. U.S. President Donald Trump threatened earlier in July to hit nations with a 100% tariff if they continued purchasing Russian crude. Belousov and Singh shake hands before a group photo session for the Shanghai Cooperation Organization Defense Ministers' Meeting in Qingdao, Shandong province, China, on June 26. | REUTERS The U.S. Treasury Department has the authority to sanction those who sell HMX and similar substances to Russia, according to three sanctions lawyers. HMX is known as a "high explosive," meaning it detonates rapidly and is designed for maximum destruction. There is no indication that the HMX shipments violated Indian government policy. One Indian official with knowledge of the shipments said that the compound has some limited civilian applications, in addition to its better-known military uses. India's foreign ministry said in a statement, "India has been carrying out exports of dual-use items taking into account its international obligations on non-proliferation, and based on its robust legal and regulatory framework that includes a holistic assessment of relevant criteria on such exports." The U.S. State Department did not comment on the specific shipments identified but said it had repeatedly communicated to India that companies doing military-related business are at risk of sanctions. "India is a strategic partner with whom we engage in full and frank dialogue, including on India's relationship with Russia," a spokesperson said. "We have repeatedly made clear to all our partners, including India, that any foreign company or financial institution that does business with Russia's military industrial base are at risk of U.S. sanctions." The State Department did not respond to a follow-up question regarding the financial stakes held by U.S. and Spanish firms in one of the Russian recipient companies. Russia's defense ministry did not respond to a request for comment. "While India has not typically been among the primary jurisdictions used for circumventing sanctions, we are aware that isolated cases can occur," Ukrainian presidential adviser Vladyslav Vlasiuk said. "We can confirm that the Russian company Promsintez has appeared on our radar in the past, including in connection with cooperation involving Indian counterparts," added Vlasiuk, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy's top sanctions official. Two HMX shipments sent in December by Indian firm Ideal Detonators Private Limited, both of which were unloaded in St. Petersburg, have been identified in the Indian customs data. An Indian government official with direct knowledge of the shipments confirmed them. One shipment, worth $405,200, was purchased by a Russian company called High Technology Initiation Systems, or HTIS, the data showed. The other shipment, worth more than $1 million was purchased by Promsintez. Both purchasers are based in Samara Oblast, near the border of Kazakhstan in southern Russia, according to the data. HTIS says on its website it produces explosives for surface and underground mining and engineering projects. It describes itself there as a subsidiary of Madrid-based Maxam, which in turn is majority-controlled by Rhone Capital, a New York-headquartered private equity firm set up by former Goldman Sachs and Lazard bankers. A source familiar with Maxam's operations said the company is in the process of divesting its Russian subsidiaries and that HTIS operates independently. Ideal Detonators Private Limited, based in the Indian state of Telangana, did not respond to a request for comment, nor did Promsintez, HTIS and Maxam. Rhone Capital declined to comment. While several Indian entities were sanctioned during the administration of former U.S. President Joe Biden for supporting Russia's war effort, sanctions were applied sparingly due to geopolitical considerations, according to two U.S. officials who worked on sanctions under Biden. Under Trump, Russia-related sanctions work has slowed to a trickle, and it is not clear if the United States will take further action against Indian companies doing business with Russia's defense industry. Washington has long sought closer relations with India to pull the South Asian country away from China. Jason Prince, a partner at Washington-based law firm Akin, said the U.S. government often prefers to communicate its concerns privately to allies and only take punitive actions as a last resort.
The Diplomat
a day ago
- The Diplomat
China's New Mega-Dam Raises the Stakes for Sino-Indian Hydrodiplomacy
On July 19, Chinese Premier Li Qiang officially announced the start of construction on a long-planned hydropower project on the lower reaches of the Yarlung Tsangpo River. Billed as a centerpiece of China's clean energy drive, the dam marks a new chapter in the country's infrastructure history – one with profound implications not only for domestic development, but also for regional stability in South Asia. This is no ordinary project. First proposed in the 1990s and later elevated to national priority in China's 14th Five-Year Plan, the Yarlung Tsangpo hydropower station is widely seen as the country's most ambitious hydro initiative since the Three Gorges Dam, with Li framing it as a 'project of the century.' The dam's installed capacity will reportedly exceed 60 gigawatts – roughly triple that of the Three Gorges – generating electricity for tens of millions of homes. State media underscored its strategic importance in helping China reach its 2060 carbon neutrality target, ensure energy security in western regions, and promote high-quality development in the Tibet Autonomous Region. It is also part of China's 2035 long-term development strategy, which calls for the creation of multiple clean energy hubs along major river basins. But the project's magnitude also heightens its geopolitical sensitivity. The Yarlung Tsangpo, known as the Brahmaputra once it enters India, originates in Tibet and flows east before making a dramatic U-turn at the Great Bend and descending into Arunachal Pradesh – a territory claimed by both India and China. It eventually reaches Bangladesh and empties into the Bay of Bengal. The river sustains agriculture, fisheries, and livelihoods for over 130 million people downstream. That China's newest dam is located just upstream of this bend – before the river crosses into Indian-administered territory – has renewed long-standing concerns in New Delhi about Beijing's leverage as an upper riparian state. Those concerns are not new. Indian officials have for years raised objections to large-scale Chinese dam-building along the Yarlung Tsangpo, especially when pursued unilaterally. Following earlier project announcements in January, India's Ministry of External Affairs publicly called for prior consultation on all activities affecting shared rivers. While no new official statement had been released following last week's announcement, Indian media reported that the government is 'closely monitoring' the latest developments. Some Indian commentators have gone further, warning that Chinese dams near the border could pose strategic risks during times of heightened tensions. Arunachal Pradesh chief minister Pema Khandu openly described the proposed dam as a potential 'water bomb.' Chinese authorities, for their part, have sought to allay downstream concerns. Chinese diplomats have emphasized that the project is designed as a run-of-the-river facility that will not significantly alter water volumes flowing into India. In addition, China insists that it 'has always acted responsibly' when developing transboundary water resources. But such reassurances – though consistent in tone – have not always sufficed to calm regional unease. For downstream countries, what matters is not only hydrological facts, but also a sense of inclusion and institutional trust. That trust remains limited. At present, the only formal cooperation mechanism between China and India on water issues is a hydrological data-sharing agreement first signed in 2002. Under this memorandum, China provides India with real-time flood season data on the Yarlung Tsangpo to aid disaster preparedness in Arunachal Pradesh and Assam. However, the mechanism has proven vulnerable to geopolitical strain. In 2017, during the Doklam standoff between Chinese and Indian forces, Beijing temporarily suspended data transfers – a move widely interpreted as political signaling. Although data-sharing later resumed, the episode revealed just how fragile functional cooperation can be in the absence of deeper institutional guarantees. At the heart of the issue lies a legal and diplomatic vacuum. Unlike India's water treaties with Pakistan (the Indus Waters Treaty, which India suspended following a terror attack in April) and Bangladesh (the Ganges Water Sharing Treaty), there is no binding bilateral framework governing river management between China and India. China has generally opted for flexible, bilateral memoranda rather than formal legal agreements, citing the principle of upstream states' sovereign rights to develop internal water resources. This divergence in legal philosophy – combined with mutual mistrust – has left the Yarlung Tsangpo without the kind of institutional architecture that could help prevent escalation. That absence is all the more concerning given the broader regional context. South Asia is already among the world's most water-stressed and conflict-prone river basins. Climate change is accelerating glacial melt, intensifying floods, and shifting monsoon patterns, all of which amplify the stakes of upstream interventions. Bangladesh has long expressed frustration over upstream diversions affecting its dry-season flows. Nepal has sparred with India over hydropower projects along the Ganges tributaries. In recent years, India itself considered reviving a major dam project in Arunachal Pradesh – widely viewed by analysts as a geopolitical counter to Chinese activities upstream. It would be shortsighted for China and India – Asia's two most populous nations – to allow water to become another theater of strategic rivalry. The potential for cooperation is far greater. Establishing joint monitoring mechanisms, expanding early warning systems, and launching basin-level dialogues could foster transparency and confidence. Strengthening the existing data-sharing agreement and insulating it from political disruptions would be a good first step. But building true water cooperation will require more than technical fixes. It demands institutional imagination – and political will. That kind of institutional breakthrough will not be easy. Neither China nor India has signed the 1997 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Non-Navigational Uses of International Watercourses, the only global treaty governing transboundary rivers. And while India has signed binding water-sharing treaties with some neighbors, its approach remains similarly bilateral and interest-driven. In other words, both governments have historically rejected the idea that upstream development should be subject to international constraints. In this sense, their stances mirror each other: each sees itself as a regional hegemon, wary of legal obligations that might curtail sovereign decision-making. As a result, both countries have become status quo powers in a region that desperately needs rule-making. This mutual caution reflects deeper realities. In both Beijing and New Delhi, water is not just a resource – it is a symbol of authority, sovereignty, and developmental legitimacy. That makes compromise politically difficult, especially amid rising nationalist sentiment and hardening border disputes. But the absence of cooperation carries its own dangers. As climate change and geopolitical risk compound each other, what is now an institutional vacuum could easily become a vacuum of control. A shift will not come easily. But the risks of inaction are real. The Yarlung Tsangpo will continue to flow across borders, indifferent to geopolitical lines. Whether it becomes a source of contention or a channel for collaboration depends on the choices that China and India make today.
The Diplomat
a day ago
- The Diplomat
India's Dalai Lama Reincarnation Dilemma
The strategic implications of the Dalai Lama's reincarnation have been well known for years, but the changing international context has complicated India's plans. The 14th Dalai Lama announced his reincarnation plans on July 2 – and, in doing so, confronted India with the prospect of a huge crisis in its relations with China after his passing. For India such a prospect is hardly new. What is new, however, is the international context. It is this context that is likely to make New Delhi's policy choices after the Dalai Lama's reincarnation more difficult. The Dalai Lama's reincarnation plans, presented in his July 2 statement, and their strategic implications have long been expected. Despite years of public musings that he might not choose reincarnation or identify an external emanation to succeed him, there was little doubt that the Dalai Lama will be reincarnated. All other options would have undermined both the institution of the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan movement he leads. His public musings about alternative plans likely sought to disorient Beijing and pressure it to negotiate. The only surprises in the Dalai Lama's announcement were its mildness, compared to his 2011 statement, and the fact that it did not say that he will be reincarnated outside China. These surprises might be part of an effort to seek a negotiated agreement with Beijing but are unlikely to change the big picture. Two claimants are likely to emerge after the passing of the current Dalai Lama: one supported by Beijing in China's Tibet Autonomous Region (TAR) and one supported by the Tibetan movement and the Central Tibetan Administration (CTA) in Dharamsala, India. This prospect presents New Delhi with a huge dilemma. If two Dalai Lamas emerge, the Indian government will have to recognize one of them, either officially or in practice. And India will have to choose the Dalai Lama in Dharamsala for moral, domestic, and strategic reasons. Not only is the Dalai Lama deeply revered inside India, with many Indians feeling that their country has a moral obligation to help both him and the Tibetan movement, but New Delhi likely recognizes that the Dalai Lama represents an important lever vis-à-vis China, India's so-called 'Tibet card.' However, supporting the Dalai Lama claimant in Dharamsala will be perceived by China as a direct challenge to Chinese sovereignty over Tibet. China's retaliation is likely to be severe and might involve provocations along the disputed border, increased support for separatists in India's unstable Northeast, or shifts in Beijing's position on the Kashmir dispute. Hence, the reincarnation dilemma for India is not which Dalai Lama to choose but how to support the one in Dharamsala without provoking a huge crisis in relations with China. Behind this dilemma lurk the bigger questions about the future of the CTA and Tibetan movement in India as well as the role of the Tibet issue in China-India relations. Fortunately, India has long prepared to confront the reincarnation dilemma. New Delhi has likely drawn plans or at least carefully considered how to handle the complex politics of the reincarnation, the possibility of mass instability in Tibet after the Dalai Lama's passing, and Beijing's policy responses to these and to India's positions. Unfortunately, the changing international context has complicated India's plans. There are four ways in which the international context of the Dalai Lama's reincarnation in recent years has shifted and, hence, made New Delhi's reincarnation dilemma more difficult. First, the rivalry between China and India has greatly intensified, raising the likelihood of conflict. While even in the best of times, the Dalai Lama's passing would have produced tensions, at present it might provoke a crisis that will deliver a heavy blow to the shaky foundations of the China-India relationship. In the worst-case scenario, it might even be the straw that will turn the two sides into full-blown adversaries. Second, the territorial dispute between China and India has escalated in recent years, particularly after the deadly Galwan clash of 2020. As there has long been an intimate connection between the Tibet issue and the territorial dispute, the reincarnation dilemma might easily scupper any chance for progress on the dispute or reignite military tensions. Importantly, as Beijing has historically used the territorial dispute to pressure India on Tibet-related issues, it is likely to do so again after the Dalai Lama's reincarnation. Third, the ongoing China-U.S. Cold War has reshaped the international environment. This environment has made Beijing more sensitive to external challenges, with the reincarnation likely to be one, and more willing to respond harshly to them. As the United States has consistently been a leading supporter of Dharamsala, the reincarnation might easily turn into a flashpoint in the China-U.S. Cold War, which would reduce New Delhi's ability to manage tensions around the reincarnation. The fallout of these tensions will affect India as Beijing retaliates against New Delhi, which it will suspect of colluding with Washington. Finally, the international position of the Dalai Lama and the CTA have weakened in recent years. Internationally support for them has declined under Chinese pressure, in tandem with the weakening of the Tibetan community on Indian soil, and the strengthening of Beijing's position in Tibet. Admittedly, this has slightly reduced Beijing's great sensitivity on the issue. But it also means that New Delhi will have to play a much bigger role in sustaining the CTA and establishing the Dharamsala Dalai Lama in the difficult times after the passing of the current one. This increased Indian role will antagonize China even further and invite its response. In sum, the Dalai Lama's reincarnation presents India with an old and very consequential dilemma, put in a new context which makes it harder. This does not mean that the reincarnation will certainly produce a huge crisis in China-India relations. After all, if the two sides communicate and manage the reincarnation carefully, tensions will remain within tolerable limits. Nevertheless, it means that New Delhi's reincarnation dilemma will be more acute and its policy responses to it will have to be more skillful. A version of this piece was previously published on the website of the Institute of South Asian Studies (ISAS), National University of Singapore (NUS).
