Bridging the North-South chasm

IN PERSPECTIVE

About two decades ago, when people came to know that ‘South Indian’ me was going to marry a Punjabi, there were murmurs. A colleague warned that the tongue that “these South Indians spoke with its ‘illais’ and ‘pillais’” (whatever that meant) would perplex her for the rest of her life. And on that count, maybe she should reconsider.

It was something we shrugged off then, but it reflected an attitude, an ‘othering’ that existed and still does, and has now surfaced, yet again, with the recent memo (since withdrawn) that forbade the use of Malayalam in ‘working places’ at the G B Pant Institute of Post Graduate Medical Education and Research (GIPMER) in Delhi.

The circular read, “A complaint has been received regarding Malayalam language being used for communication in working places in GIPMER. Whereas maximum patient and colleagues do not know this language and feel helpless, causing a lot of inconvenience. So, it is directed to all nursing personnel to use only Hindi and English for communication. Otherwise, serious action will be taken.” (sic)

If one chooses to look beyond the bureaucratese of ‘inconvenience’ and ‘serious action’, what one can sense is an undertone of hostility and disrespect. What lies at its root?

Is it a fear of the unknown or is it a nativist disdain for anything that isn’t one’s own?

Given that Malayalam is an Indian language, it begs the question, why is it so unknown? Not just Malayalam, all South Indian languages seem to be something of a black hole for many in North India! Equally, the ignorance of southern cultures is also jarring.

Social media is replete with videos, memes and posts that attempt to ‘decode’ South India and its languages, sometimes getting into micro-details about how it is ‘Kannada’ and not ‘Kannad’ and so on.

The chasm has to be bridged for the benefit of all and so that such incidents do not recur. What is to be done?

Three-language formula

When the Constitution was promulgated in 1950, the language issue was a burning one. Many wanted Hindi to be enshrined with the status of ‘national language’. But the lack of consensus resulted in a compromise. Hindi was designated ‘official language’, English ‘co-official language’ and 14 others were made ‘scheduled languages.’ By 1966, English was to be eased out and Hindi formally enthroned.

Language riots in Tamil Nadu in early 1966 effectively killed that idea. English remained on the books.

In 1968, the three-language formula was incorporated into the National Education Policy. The formula stipulated that students from the Hindi-speaking states would take up English, Hindi and a modern Indian language (preferably a South Indian language), while students from non-Hindi speaking states would also take up Hindi, English and one Indian language.

But in many Hindi-speaking states, Sanskrit became the third language instead of a modern Indian language. Tamil Nadu stuck to a two-language formula. But several states adopted the formula in true spirit and implemented it. And the numbers of non-Hindi speakers who know the language has grown.

In part, Hindi’s acceptance in the southern states is due to the history of Hindi propagation in the region. In 1918, Mahatma Gandhi founded the Dakshina Bharat Hindi Prachar Sabha to teach Hindi to South Indians. He believed that using an Indian tongue as a link language would unshackle Indians from the vestiges of colonial rule, a great deal of which flowed from the extensive usage of English. The Sabha’s headquarters in Chennai continues to function unhindered more than a century later. Even in the thick of the anti-Hindi riots in 1966, protesters were strictly instructed not to make the Sabha a target. But Gandhi did not merely stop at attempting to popularise Hindi in South India. In Hind Swaraj, he also recommended that northerners learn Tamil. That a linguistically diverse nation like India had to learn to give and take seemed to be the spirit behind these actions and recommendations.

This hasn’t quite worked out. Hindi has grown, but not so the other tongues.

The way forward?

If the fear of the unknown has to be dealt with, the implementation of the three-language formula in its true spirit is a must. But what else, besides?

Is there a case now for the southern states to do the inverse of Gandhi’s actions? Could cultural centres, in the Alliance Française vein, be set up in various northern states to both propagate southern languages as well as disseminate the finer points of southern culture? The Kannada Sanghas and Tamil Sangams that exist have so far largely served as meeting points for Kannadigas and Tamilians. Few others involve themselves in their activities. Given the economic ascendance of the South, could a case be made out for northerners to learn southern languages? This could perhaps drive away the fear of the unknown as well as give many an idea about cultures other than their own.

Maybe that will help bridge the chasm.

(The writer is a Punjabi-knowing Keralite. He also knows Tamil, Kannada, Malayalam, Hindi and English)