
Dr. Viswanath Pandey
Language is not merely a means of communication; it is a battleground for identity, power, and politics. Nowhere is this more evident than in the paradox of Hindi, a language that straddles two worlds: as the official language of India, but not quite the national language of the people. As we traverse the political terrain of India, the evolving role of Hindi raises intriguing questions about language, power, and marginalization. Its journey is a reflection of India’s complex socio-political fabric and the growing challenges of forging a unified nation from its incredibly diverse linguistic landscape.
At the heart of this paradox lies Hindi’s dual existence: On the one hand, it stands as an official language, a symbol of the state; on the other, it is the language of the masses, a tool for democratic expression and the voice of the marginalized. Exploring these two imaginations of Hindi — as a government-imposed official language and as the people’s language — sheds light on the intricate dynamics of language politics that shape our national discourse.
Hindi as the Official Language: The Struggle for Functional Nationality
When India gained independence in 1947, there was an overwhelming desire to cast off the remnants of colonial rule, including the dominance of the English language. Yet, the question of which language should replace English as the official language of a newly independent India became a contentious issue. Should it be Hindi, Hindustani, or Sanskrit? The language debate was a product of India’s diverse linguistic landscape, exacerbated by the partition and the subsequent Urdu-Hindi divide, particularly in the northern states.
The Munshi-Ayyangar Formula, an early attempt to resolve this conflict, allowed for English to coexist with Hindi for a transitional period of 15 years, after which Hindi was to take over entirely. However, the realities of India’s multilingual makeup meant that the transition was never straightforward. The subsequent challenges of language imposition, especially in non-Hindi-speaking regions like Tamil Nadu, led to fierce resistance, particularly during the anti-Hindi agitations of the 1960s. This resistance was not just linguistic but also cultural, as the imposition of Hindi was seen as a threat to regional languages and identities.
In 1957, the Pant Committee’s recommendation to continue English as the official language even after the proposed 15-year period signaled a pragmatic approach. The Official Language Act of 1963 formalized this dual-language policy, recognizing both Hindi and English as “official languages” of the Indian Union. This policy allowed for the continued dominance of English in official domains while giving Hindi space to develop as a functional language for governance. However, this accommodation has often been criticized for the incomplete realization of Hindi’s role as a truly functional official language, especially when compared to English’s entrenched status in bureaucracy, education, and business.
Despite official efforts to empower Hindi, including the Committee of Parliament on Official Language and the Official Language Rules of 1976, the reality remains that Hindi’s full potential as a national unifier has not been realized. In the southern states, where Tamil, Telugu, and Kannada dominate, the push for Hindi has often been viewed as an imposition by the north. This raises the question: Can a language, even if recognized as official, be truly national when it remains alien to large segments of the population?
Hindi as the Language of the Marginalized: Empowerment or Hegemony?
While Hindi has faced resistance as the official language of the state, it has simultaneously become a vital medium of communication for millions of marginalized communities across India. For the Dalit and Bahujan communities, Hindi has been an empowering tool, allowing them to break the cultural and linguistic barriers imposed by the English-speaking elite. Hindi, in this sense, becomes the language of resistance and agency, a medium through which the subaltern can articulate their anxieties and assert their presence in the political sphere.
The rise of Hindi as the language of the marginalized, however, is not a straightforward narrative of empowerment. It has also been entwined with the politics of identity, caste, and class. Hindi has provided these communities with a platform to challenge the hegemony of English, but it also remains shaped by the socio-political hierarchies that prevail in India. The marginalized communities that adopt Hindi often do so not just to express themselves, but also to negotiate power, identity, and recognition within a larger framework of social exclusion.
This paradox is most clearly seen in the Hindi-speaking Muslim community. Despite the historical divide between Hindi and Urdu — often framed as a religious and cultural divide between Hinduism and Islam — the reality on the ground is far more fluid. Hindi has become a lingua franca for the north Indian Muslim middle class, who use it for religious, social, and political mobilization. In mosques across northern India, notices and texts are often written in Devanagari, the script used for Hindi, while religious texts like the Quran are available in Hindi translations. The lines between Hindi and Urdu, once rigidly defined, blur at the grassroots level. The language of the so-called ‘Hindu-Muslim divide’ is increasingly being used as a unifying force, challenging the narrative of a monolithic, separate identity for Hindi and Urdu.
This linguistic fluidity was particularly evident in the anti-CAA protests, where Hindi became the language of resistance, uniting diverse groups across religious and regional lines. The language used in these protests was a marker of shared identity, transcending religious and ethnic divisions. It is this dynamic quality of Hindi — both as a language of empowerment and a symbol of collective action — that continues to make it relevant for millions, even as its status as the official language remains contested.
The rise of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and the increasing dominance of Hindutva ideology in Indian politics has added another layer of complexity to the debate around Hindi. For the BJP, the idea of a “Hindu Rashtra” — a nation defined by Hindu cultural and religious values — often goes hand in hand with the promotion of Hindi as the language of national identity. This vision, articulated in the idea of “Hindi-Hindu-Hindustan,” represents a consolidation of religious and linguistic identities under the banner of nationalism. In this context, Hindi is not merely a language of communication but also a powerful symbol of the larger Hindu cultural resurgence.
However, this shift has triggered alarm among secular elites, especially in the non-Hindi regions, where the rise of Hindi is seen not only as an assertion of cultural dominance but also as part of a broader political agenda aimed at marginalizing other languages and cultures. The secular-left critique of this development positions Hindi as an integral component of the Hindutva project, which seeks to redefine India’s identity in terms of a singular Hindu ethos. This critique, however, overlooks the complex, democratic, and plural nature of Hindi as it exists in the lived experience of millions of Indians.
Hindi, in this context, becomes a contested terrain. It is both a tool for political mobilization and a source of resistance against hegemonic cultural forces. It is at once the language of the state and the voice of the people, a symbol of unity and a marker of division.
A Nation Divided by Language, Yet United by Hindi
Hindi, in its paradoxical nature, reflects the complex web of identity, politics, and power that defines modern India. On one hand, it is the official language of the Indian state, a tool for governance that has struggled to assert its presence across all corners of the country. On the other, it is a language of empowerment for marginalized communities, transcending caste, class, and religious lines, and providing a platform for democratic expression.
The debate surrounding Hindi is not merely about language; it is a reflection of India’s ongoing struggle to reconcile its regional, cultural, and religious diversity with the need for national unity. As we move forward, the question remains: can Hindi transcend its official status to become the true language of national unity, or will it remain a symbol of division and conflict, caught between its official aspirations and its democratic realities?
In the paradox of Hindi, we find not only the complexities of language politics but also the heart of India’s identity — fractured, contested, and yet, in its own way, united.
(Writer, aPh.D. in Sociology, is a well-recognised author and columnist. For past over three decades, he has served in various administrative and academic capacities at Banaras Hindu University).