<p>Rather than a three-language formula, what we really need are three formulae for language, based on some obvious things. First, learning in the mother tongue is easier for children. Second, familiarity with local language has social, economic and cultural value beyond merely the content in textbooks. And third, access to languages of the marketplace increases opportunities. From these three, it should be fairly obvious what any government should do about language.</p>.<p>That sounds like material for a policy debate. But public conversations about regional, official and national languages don’t come up in this way, usually. They usually pop into the public spotlight from something sharp said by a public figure. I was reminded of this seeing the latest round of exchanges over whether Hindi is the national language, this time between actors Kichcha Sudeep and Ajay Devgn. That’s usually how the question surfaces, and that kind of exchange ends up covering a lot of the fine print about what’s going on.</p>.<p>The verdict of the public in Karnataka was never in doubt. But it was also clear the minute it happened that the next set of views about languages would come from the political arena. A dispute like this, even if it is just a fleeting exchange between two individuals, is a stage for other actors, too. It is an instant opportunity for political leaders in the state -- both in the government and in opposition -- to declare their love for all things local. And on cue, they’ve been doing that.</p>.<p>But these kinds of spats are not the real issue, they are a sideshow. What really matters is elsewhere. The fact is, there is a persistent push from the Centre to steer a pro-Hindi course in non-Hindi states. There is an official bureaucracy for Hindi promotion, and central ministers are not hiding the agenda of making the language more and more important. Even the political leadership in Karnataka knows this quite well. That’s probably why, even in their clarifications, the ministers have remained aligned to the party line that Hindi is a link language.</p>.<p>That keeps things vague -- it’s not clear whether that means Hindi is our link to only the Hindi-speaking parts of India, or whether we are expected to use it as the link language even in interactions with governments and people from other parts of India. In politics, vagueness is precious. It’s the core ingredient in confusing the people.</p>.<p>Karnataka is more prone to this problem than many other states, because it is -- and has been -- governed mostly by national parties. More importantly, the state has felt the force of high command politics more than any other state, with Chief Ministers dismissed and appointed by arrangements rather than popular will. This isn’t recent, either; it’s been going on for decades. Remember Veeerendra Patil? Frequent reminders from several Chief Ministers about ‘going to Delhi’ for some decision or the other have been part of a long and painful lack of political autonomy.</p>.<p>The real fault lines are not about language at all. Ordinary people of every state are perfectly content to go on with their own languages, and they don’t spend their time thinking of ways to force others to choose their language. This is not about what the people want; it’s something else. And it’s not going away soon. In fact, the chances are quite high that more and more state governments, feeling pushed into a corner by the Centre, will resort to some kind of localism as the only force that can protect their political interests. This is a slippery slope.</p>.<p>There is another way, and it is enshrined in the Constitution -- Federalism. A few years ago, I had put together 10 points, including one about language, as part of the answer to the question : What is ‘federal’? These range from elected district governments, to regional budgets within states, to a greater share of taxes for local councils, and more. And then I spent some time searching for news coverage of these, paying particular attention to whether political leaders saw any of this as part of federalism. The answer was one big ‘NO’. These topics rarely made it to the public discourse, and even when they did, they seemed to pass quickly from the front pages.</p>.<p>These days, with the Centre pushing hard to consolidate power around itself, the ‘F’ word is once again bandied about quite a bit. Opposition leaders in particular complain that the Government of India is not respecting the ‘federal’ arrangement between the states and the Union. It isn’t federalism that they love, however. It’s the luxury of having more political space for themselves, and the power that flows from it. If they really loved federalism, there are a dozen things they could be doing within their states without waiting for New Delhi to give up ground.</p>.<p>India does not need to encounter federalism as a battle for political space, in any language. Thanks to big changes in travel and communication, Indians today see and interact with each other far more than we have ever done in the past. And this will throw up new questions for our society and our politics. Some of these will be emotive, coming into the spotlight of news cycles unexpectedly.</p>.<p><em>Ashwin Mahesh, social technologist and entrepreneur, founder of Mapunity and co-founder, Lithium, wakes up with hope for the city and society, goes to bed with a sigh, repeats cycle</em></p>
<p>Rather than a three-language formula, what we really need are three formulae for language, based on some obvious things. First, learning in the mother tongue is easier for children. Second, familiarity with local language has social, economic and cultural value beyond merely the content in textbooks. And third, access to languages of the marketplace increases opportunities. From these three, it should be fairly obvious what any government should do about language.</p>.<p>That sounds like material for a policy debate. But public conversations about regional, official and national languages don’t come up in this way, usually. They usually pop into the public spotlight from something sharp said by a public figure. I was reminded of this seeing the latest round of exchanges over whether Hindi is the national language, this time between actors Kichcha Sudeep and Ajay Devgn. That’s usually how the question surfaces, and that kind of exchange ends up covering a lot of the fine print about what’s going on.</p>.<p>The verdict of the public in Karnataka was never in doubt. But it was also clear the minute it happened that the next set of views about languages would come from the political arena. A dispute like this, even if it is just a fleeting exchange between two individuals, is a stage for other actors, too. It is an instant opportunity for political leaders in the state -- both in the government and in opposition -- to declare their love for all things local. And on cue, they’ve been doing that.</p>.<p>But these kinds of spats are not the real issue, they are a sideshow. What really matters is elsewhere. The fact is, there is a persistent push from the Centre to steer a pro-Hindi course in non-Hindi states. There is an official bureaucracy for Hindi promotion, and central ministers are not hiding the agenda of making the language more and more important. Even the political leadership in Karnataka knows this quite well. That’s probably why, even in their clarifications, the ministers have remained aligned to the party line that Hindi is a link language.</p>.<p>That keeps things vague -- it’s not clear whether that means Hindi is our link to only the Hindi-speaking parts of India, or whether we are expected to use it as the link language even in interactions with governments and people from other parts of India. In politics, vagueness is precious. It’s the core ingredient in confusing the people.</p>.<p>Karnataka is more prone to this problem than many other states, because it is -- and has been -- governed mostly by national parties. More importantly, the state has felt the force of high command politics more than any other state, with Chief Ministers dismissed and appointed by arrangements rather than popular will. This isn’t recent, either; it’s been going on for decades. Remember Veeerendra Patil? Frequent reminders from several Chief Ministers about ‘going to Delhi’ for some decision or the other have been part of a long and painful lack of political autonomy.</p>.<p>The real fault lines are not about language at all. Ordinary people of every state are perfectly content to go on with their own languages, and they don’t spend their time thinking of ways to force others to choose their language. This is not about what the people want; it’s something else. And it’s not going away soon. In fact, the chances are quite high that more and more state governments, feeling pushed into a corner by the Centre, will resort to some kind of localism as the only force that can protect their political interests. This is a slippery slope.</p>.<p>There is another way, and it is enshrined in the Constitution -- Federalism. A few years ago, I had put together 10 points, including one about language, as part of the answer to the question : What is ‘federal’? These range from elected district governments, to regional budgets within states, to a greater share of taxes for local councils, and more. And then I spent some time searching for news coverage of these, paying particular attention to whether political leaders saw any of this as part of federalism. The answer was one big ‘NO’. These topics rarely made it to the public discourse, and even when they did, they seemed to pass quickly from the front pages.</p>.<p>These days, with the Centre pushing hard to consolidate power around itself, the ‘F’ word is once again bandied about quite a bit. Opposition leaders in particular complain that the Government of India is not respecting the ‘federal’ arrangement between the states and the Union. It isn’t federalism that they love, however. It’s the luxury of having more political space for themselves, and the power that flows from it. If they really loved federalism, there are a dozen things they could be doing within their states without waiting for New Delhi to give up ground.</p>.<p>India does not need to encounter federalism as a battle for political space, in any language. Thanks to big changes in travel and communication, Indians today see and interact with each other far more than we have ever done in the past. And this will throw up new questions for our society and our politics. Some of these will be emotive, coming into the spotlight of news cycles unexpectedly.</p>.<p><em>Ashwin Mahesh, social technologist and entrepreneur, founder of Mapunity and co-founder, Lithium, wakes up with hope for the city and society, goes to bed with a sigh, repeats cycle</em></p>