Forced Tongues

In Maharashtra, the language of instruction has become a new battlefield. The state government’s recently announced that Hindi would be made compulsory as a third language in all state board schools from Class 1 onwards, alongside Marathi and English. The decision, made under the pretext of implementing the National Education Policy (NEP), has provoked a swift and sharp backlash not only from opposition parties but from the state’s own Language Advisory Committee as well.

The committee’s firm opinion was that the move was neither academically justified nor in tune with students’ psychology. Their letter to Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis rightly notes that introducing a compulsory third language at the primary level places undue pressure on young learners in an education system already struggling with inadequate infrastructure, teacher shortages and uneven learning outcomes.

Language, in India, is always political. It evokes deep emotional bonds, regional identities, and memories of centralising policies that have often appeared, rightly or wrongly, as attempts to homogenise a dazzlingly diverse nation. Maharashtra is not Tamil Nadu, where anti-Hindi sentiment has historically galvanised entire movements. Yet, the instinct to protect Marathi - a living, evolving language with a proud literary and cultural history - is a deeply felt one. It should not be mistaken for parochialism.

Moreover, the pedagogical rationale for this move is paper-thin. The Language Committee’s suggestion to require only two languages (one being Marathi) until Class XII is sound advice, rooted in evidence and expertise. Language acquisition thrives when it is organic and interest-driven, not when it is forced from a bureaucrat’s desk.

Besides, children in Maharashtra already pick up Hindi naturally through Bollywood films, television and popular culture. Hindi and Marathi, after all, share the same Devanagari script and have numerous linguistic similarities. Forcing Hindi in such an environment is not only redundant but betrays a lack of faith in the organic flow of languages and cultures.

The NEP’s insistence on a three-language formula may have been well-meaning, but its rigid application, especially when it defaults to Hindi, threatens that balance.

Predictably, opposition parties have seized the moment with the Maharashtra Vikas Aghadi (MVA), a fractious alliance at the best of times, finding unity in opposing the government over the issue. Political opportunism is certainly at play. But it would be a mistake to dismiss the protest merely as opposition for opposition’s sake as the unease is real and widespread.

Language, after all, is an expression of identity and belonging and not just communication. When governments attempt to prescribe what tongues children must learn, they risk trampling on something far deeper than syllabus design. If Hindi is to spread in Maharashtra, let it do so naturally through choice, cultural appeal and opportunity, not by compulsion.

In a state where the love for Marathi runs as deep as the rivers that course through its land, it would be unwise to ignite resentments that could have been avoided by a lighter touch.