[Part of an ongoing series on Ramachandra Guha’s India After Gandhi. Last week’s entry can be found here. Next week, we will look at Chapter 10, “The Conquest of Nature,” on India’s approach to development and the modernization of agriculture.]
Guha’s Chapter 9, “Redrawing the Map,” is about the early phase in the movement to establish language-based states, with particular emphasis on the south (the creation of Andhra Pradesh out of what was formerly the state of Madras), the status of Bombay vis a vis Maharashtra, and the delineation of Punjab.
As Guha points out, though reorganizing states according to language was part of the Congress plank from the 1930s, after Independence/Partition, both Nehru and Sardar Patel were strongly opposed to rushing into any reorganization of states, especially if there was a danger that such reorganizations could lead to the destabilization of the union. The logic behind this hesitation was understandable and quite sound: if the idea of “India” could be broken along the lines of religion, why not also language?
The first new state to be created along the lines of language was Andhra Pradesh, and this was largely due to the hunger strike of Gandhian activist and Telugu leader Potti Sriramulu, who is another one of those great, largely forgotten (well, forgotten outside of Andhra Pradesh at least) “characters” from post-independence Indian history who probably should be better known than he is:
Sriramulu was born in Madras in 1901, and studied sanitary engineering before taking a job with the railroads. In 1928 he suffered a double tragedy, when his wife died along with their newborn child. Two years later he resigned his position to join the Salt Satyagraha. Later, he spent some time at Gandhi’s Sabarmati ashram. Later still, he spent eighteen months in jail as part of the individual Satyagraha campaign of 1940-41. . . .
Gandhi did regard Sriramulu with affection but also, it must be said, with a certain exasperation. On 25 November 1946 the disciple had beugn a fast unto death to demand the opening of all temples in Madras province to untouchables. Other congressmen, their minds more focused on the impending freedom of India, urged him to desist. . . .
Potti Sriramulu had called off that fast of 1946 at Gandhi’s insistence. But in 1952 he Mahatma was dead; and in any case, Andhra meant more to Sriramulu than the untouchables once had. This fast he would carry out till the end, or until the government of India relented.
Potti Sriramulu died of his hunger strike on December 15, 1952. Three days later, Nehru announced that the formation of the state of Andhra out of the eleven Telugu-speaking districts of Madras.
Of course, with Andhra the reorganization was just beginning. Three years later, the national States Reorganization Committee announced a number of other changes. In the south, the job was easy, as there were four clear language regions (Telugu, Kannada, Tamil, and Malayalam) that could be allocated their own states.
In Bombay, the situation was more complicated, as the Marathi-speakers in Bombay comprised a plurality (43%) but not a majority of the city’s residents as of 1955. Moreover, the economically dominant ethnic communities of Bombay — especially Gujaratis — strongly resisted the idea of making Bombay part of a Marathi-speaking state. However, following growing unrest and a series of “language riots” (memorably described in Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children), this merger eventually did happen in 1960, as Bombay was declared the capital of the new state of Maharashtra. (Suketu Mehta’s book, Maximum City, has a lot more on how language and ethnicity politics have evolved in Bombay over the years — warts and all.)
This Guha chapter doesn’t detail how things would play out later in Punjab, where the Sikhs’ early demand for a Punjabi-language state was denied by the States Reorganization Committee in 1955. (Sikhs have always anecdotally blamed this failure on the census of 1951, where Punjabi-speaking Hindus by and large described their primary language as “Hindi,” confusing matters greatly.) When reorganization eventually did occur in Punjab in 1966, it caused lots of other problems, some of which would lead to a resurgent Akali movement, and eventually to the rise of Sikh separatism in the 1970s.
Partly as a result of what happened in Punjab (and we’ll get to that in a few chapters), Guha’s rather easy acceptance the language reorganization movements seems a bit glib to me:
When it began, the movement for linguistic states generated deep apprehensions among the nationalist elite. They feared it would lead to the balkanization of India, to the creation of many more Pakistans. ‘Any attempt at redrawing the map of India on the linguistic basis,’ wrote the Times of India in February 1952, ‘would only give the long awaited opportunity to the reactionary forces to come into the open and assert themselves. That will lay an axe to the very root of India’s integrity.’
In retrospect, however, linguistic reorganization seems rather to have consolidated the unity of India. True, the artifacts that have resulted, such as Bangalore’s Vidhan Souda, are not to everybody’s taste. And there have been some serious conflicts between states over the sharing of river waters. However, on the whole the creation of linguistic states has acted as a largely constructive channel for provincial pride. It has proved quite feasible to be peaceably Kannadiga, or Tamil, or Oriya–as well as contentedly Indian. (207-208)
Guha’s premise that language-based politics works somewhat differently from the politics of religious communalism seems right to me. The latter seems inevitably divisive (and almost always destructive), while the former seems to have had several positive benefits (especially as it has led to support for regional literatures and the arts). And it’s also clear that the reorganization along linguistic lines didn’t lead to what was feared, “the creation of many more Pakistans.”
But isn’t it still true that the language-based politics that led to the creation of new states starting in the 1950s has also led state governments to certain excesses along linguistic/ethnic lines? Two such excesses might include the renaming of Bombay as ‘Mumbai’, and the recent renaming of Bangalore as ‘Bengluru’. I’m also concerned about the language-based “reservations” that exist in some states, favoring the dominant ethno-linguistic community over other ethnic groups (though I admit I am not a specialist on this latter issue). Now that the states have been permanently established, is the perpetuation of language-based politics really that benign?
All this renaming just shows how rotten the political system in India has become and how little political ‘leaders’ have to offer other than elaborate tamashas like renaming cities. Sadly in fact smart folks join the pointless masturbation, which suits the pseudo-intellectuals in media just fine.
As for everything being renamed after Chattrapati Shivaji, I tell you Mumbai’s got nothing on Melbourne where Victoria and Elizabeth reign supreme. Don’t these guys at least think it’s f**king boring?
Come on, many states in the US have boundaries along latitudes and longitudes. That sounds to me like there was a central (oops, “federal” hand in these divisions. I don’t know, though.
Thanks, Desi=Dizzy. I was thinking of Madras Presidency and Bengal Presidency when they were shamelessly called provinces, because I once used to go to Presidency College in Kolkata, although I mostly hung out at the Coffee House and Rupa Bookstore, going past the famous photographer’s studio sign every afternoon that said,”If you have beauty, I will take it. If not, I will make it” -and also of course attended as many riots as possible.
Now, of course,
France: 545,630 sq km, some of which is water; and Unified Rajasthan: 342,236 sq km>, no water, whereas Unified Germany, as RC pointed out: 357,021 sq km, minus water. If I’m not much mistaken, the Unification of Germany took much longer than the Unification of Rajasthan. (I’ve heard the demolition of the Berlin Wall also called the Unification of Germany, but y’all know I don’t mean that kind of Unification.
), Sorry.
Nice to know there are a few more Biharis in this world than Germans, more Bengalis than Frenchmen/women.
Without doing the math, my question is – given the close figures – can Europe be said to be overpopulated?
What exactly do you mean? What then is the place in India to be according to you, which is devoid of all regional politics and language based politics?
Hobson-Jobson, under Bombay, debunks the bom bahia myth in the very first sentence. The argument should really address the change from Madras to Chennai, a move of true DMK chauvinism. Hobson-Jobson’s contentious entry for Madras makes for interesting reading but offers no clue in the direction of Chennai. If there was any basis for this name I am sure the Muslims, Portuguese, French and English would have made mention of it in their marvelously loquacious travel writings. Would someone care to comment on Chennai?
Jgandhi wrote:
I think the more likely reason is that most Indians cannot pronounce “Ahmedabad”. “Ahmed” is pronounced with the guttural “kh” sound found in Semitic languages
Not true. “Ahmed”, a very common Desi name, does not use the “kh”, it’s a “h”. Some Desi names do use the “kh”, such as “Khurram”, as do many other Hindustani words (like the word for “wish”, or “broken”). It’s a common sound in India. So difficulty all Indians have with the pronunciation cannot be the reason for the name change.
What do you mean “chauvinism”?. It is the “colonising” Brits who changed the names to suit their own pronunciation skills. There is really no need for retaining Trichy (for thiruchirappalli) and Trivandrum (for Thiru(v)ananthapuram). Madras was used to be called as “Chennapatnam” by the localites and hence the name of “Chennai”. I’m all for changing the colonial names to give meaningful names in “local languages”.
Ponniyin — in some cases it was the Brits that founded the city, or created the circumstances for its growth. Not just Bombay and Karachi, but also towns like Abbottabad and Jacobabad.
Alexandria’s name reflects the man who founded it — it would be stupid for the Egyptians to rename it because he was a Greek.
Lyallpur, named after its founder Sir Charles James Lyall, then Lt. Governor of the Punjab, in 1880, was renamed Faisalabad in 1977, after the late King of Saudi Arabia, Shah Faisal bin Abdul-Aziz ! Link
My problem with renaming things is that the new names often derive from polarising figures and/or concepts and/or imagined histories. On the other hand, Trichinopoly to Tiruchirapalli is not bothersome at all (though I’d like it to have been formalized to Trichy, which it was and still is in the popular mind).
JGandhi @ 48: Just to clarify, Hindi as well as Gujarati language is full of words sounding “Kh”. No body, I mean nobody in India would say Akh-medabad. Some words with “Kh” sound are: Khana Khajana, Khushboo,Khubsurat, (Aaji ki Taaza) Khabar, Khun, Kheladi, Khmaosh, etc. The name Ahmed is never pronounced as Akhmed by Indians, (unless you are Wolf Blitzer or Lou Dobbs. So, the name Amdavad did not become popular because Gujarati folks could not say Ahmed. As a matter of fact, railway station and airport still uses the name Ahmedabad.
Well.. I think it is ok to “localise” the names that has the support of “local” population. I’d let the locals decide what name they want their cities to have. There are probably a few cities the Brits founded / created from scratch. A lot of other cities (whose names they have changed) have a much longer history.
No referendum was held in Madras to let the locals express their preference. The official name was changed by a set of politicians.
i think it is odd to look to the writings of non-native explorers/conquerors to get a proper understanding of the linguistic history behind ‘chennai.’ as ponniyin selvan pointed out, chennapatnam was a former name of madras. furthermore, the current form of ‘chennai’ is not some DMK creation – chennai had been used in senthamizh (literary thamizh) for as long as i can remember (i am not sure when it went from chennapatnam to chennai, though). you will never have a proper literary allusion to the city that references it as ‘madras’ – it is always chennai in the literary realm. thus, the official name switch only reflects that fact. outside political circles, though, i think people in the city stll continue to use madras and chennai interchangeably, and are, as always, mindful of the context. to some extent, i think the same might be said of bombay/mumbai.
“Alexandria’s name reflects the man who founded it — it would be stupid for the Egyptians to rename it because he was a Greek.”
should istanbul then revert to constantinople or byzantium?
also the brits renamed a slew of german place/thing names in australia during ww1 to either aboriginal names/british names. not to mention the ancient place names in the subcontinent that have been changed from that their founders/early inhabitants intended. while changing bombay/madras because of political aims may seem objectionable, it’s hardly new and has been done for centuries, because even most “founding” cities were probably organic outgrowths of something else that existed there. but renaming victoria terminus, which can be credited solely to the british, is a different matter, i think.
Last time I checked those politicians were elected by the people of Chennai in a democratic free and fair election. That would work for me.
From the original article,
–> My general understanding has been that the language based politics has been for the better for the people who happen to be the majority, lingusitically speaking, in the states. While retaining the official language policy(as opposed to “national language”) at the centre, it would be good if education at centre and state coalesced around a 2 language formula(Local language, English). As someone who is plain bad at languages, being forced to learn learn an additional language can leave an indelible mark about the language being pushed.
The corrosive effect it has had on language itself is an entirely different matter. So, you have spectacles like the one in TN where movie names not following a certain strand of tamil(“thooya thamizh” which once again is determined on ideological purposes, not on linguistic merits), as mandated by the state government, are at a disadvantage compared to the ones that follow the state-approved language. When you have bureacrats determining what is/is not approved language to be followed in public square/marketplace, that is a perverse display of state power.
56 Narayan
–> I think chennai comes from chennapatnam that British got from either chanda saheb or mohammad yousuf(I think).
63 P.G. Wodehouse
–> Who, I hope, were elected as representatives for the people.
This is slightly off-topic but I’d like to recommend the great play, Translations by Brian Friel, on a related subject–British colonization of 19th century Ireland and the attendant renaming of Irish towns and landmarks into standardized English. The time is nigh for an Indian update, methinks.
This link suggests that it might be named after Chenappa Naik
OK. So folks don’t like my citing colonial sources. Here is an extended quote from S.Muthiah’s “Madras Rediscovered”.
K.A.Nilakanta Sastri’s “A History of South India”, which covers “from Prehistoric Times to the Fall of Vijayanagar” makes NO MENTION of either Madras or Chennai.
For those of you of broader mind I still recommend Hobson-Jobson’s TWO WHOLE PAGES on “Madras”, which provide even more scholarly theories.
The fact remains that the city grew gradually by an accretion of villages near the English fort and factory – there was never a coherent settlement before. I was hoping that some of you bloggers might add to my knowledge with alternative theories from sources other than those I have access to. Unfortunately, the responses have been more self-righteous than informed, which by and large is the tenor of this site.
yes madras was originally settled by the brits, but considerable parts of it was built at the expense of “natives”; in fact the “black town” in madras was fortified at the expense of its inhabitants–as one englishman put it–“whether it please or displease them” (K.N. Chaudhuri, “The Trading World of Asia and the English East India Company”, pp. 121-122)
“Indeed, from the time of the first settlement in 1639-1640, the city’s name in official documents has been Madras in English and Chennai in Tamil, both names happily co-existing for 350 years and more. What need was there then for the great name change in 1996?!””
proponents of the name change could use that sentence above to argue that since both names have happily co-existed for so long, what difference does it make if one switches the official name to the Tamil one and the unofficial name to the “English” one? The only thing that’s changed is who the officious officials are and which name suits their tongue/biases and proclivities better.
One of the things that I got to learn when I had to go to India for part of my schooling was some of the lesser known things about local leaders. The language based division was a no brainer in the south. Can you imagine how much more of a headache it would have been for state politicians bickering over which language to use in official documents or to debate in the state house? No division is perfect. But this was the best option. The central leaders were stupid not to recognise this earlier. The fact that it took the death of a principled man to force their hand was ridiculous.
And I agree NTR was the right leader at the right time for Andhra Pradesh. The chief ministers prior to him were ridiculous jokers or super corrupt leaders. Also they were just Indira Gandhi’s slaves. They did not get many projects for the state. They were unable to get the CEntral leaders to show any respect for the state. NTR was outlandish at times with his demeanor and proposals, but it worked to serve as a wakeup call.
It’s still Madras Plaid, and Bombay Gin, though! While the fabric came from what was once Madras, I don’t think the gin had anything much to do with Bombay.
BTW, in case you still want to go to ‘Madras’, you can – to Madras, Oregon (pop. est 6,000) or, to ‘Bombay’ – Bombay, New York, USA !
Wrong everyone!! here is how Bombay/Mumbai and Madras/Chennai got theirs names..
(On a military aircraft flying over present day mumbai) Airman1: (pointing to the land below the aircraft) What’s that down there? Airman2: (not looking at where Airman1 is pointing) Bomb bay Airman1: hmm.. cool name.. Bombay..
(On a helicopter on a windy day) Passenger1: (to Passenger2) Hey what place is that down there? (a gust blows out a suit hanging inside the helicopter) Passenger2: (not hearing Passenger1) My dress.. ma dras.. Passenger1: Madras! of course.. silly me!
Has not the creation of states by language created a bigger barrier for free movement of people and commerce within India? Can anyone point me to data that shows how this was a good idea? On a related note: Being originally from Bangalore I notice that a large part of why it is so cosmopolitan is because Bangaloreans speak Kannada, Tamil, Telgu, Hindi and English quite readily. Bangalore is very close to the border of Andhra and Tamil Nadu.
Manu, the alternative – randomly drawing lines – has/had much more potential for discrimination within states – consider a state where one ethnic/linguistic group turns out to be the majority because of a random line drawing.
An English surveyor once pointed to an area and asked the local “what do you call this landâ€. The local, a gardener looked at the pile of grass in the direction of the English surveyors and said “Kal Kaataâ€. (My 8th Std history/geography teacher Ms. Ghosh told me that this is how her state capital was named 🙂 )
Hilarious! Never heard that one before, heh.
An English surveyor once pointed to an area and asked the local “what do you call this landâ€. The local, a gardener looked at the pile of grass in the direction of the English surveyors and said “Kal Kaataâ€. (My 8th Std history/geography teacher Ms. Ghosh told me that this is how her state capital was named 🙂 )
Why do Indian governmental officials insist on changing the names given by European colonialists in India, but the toponyms given by the Mughals or Afghanis? Chronologically, the Mughals coexisted (not peacefully) with Afghanis and European colonialists.
“Why do Indian governmental officials insist on changing the names given by European colonialists in India, but the toponyms given by the Mughals or Afghanis? Chronologically, the Mughals coexisted (not peacefully) with Afghanis and European colonialists”
Good question. I pondered about this myself long ago. There are about 10% of Indians who passionately identify with those Mughal and Afghan regimes. If you try to change any of those toponyms, the communal tensions will go way high. Once in the 60’s there was an unsuccessful move to drop the word Muslim in Aligarh Muslim University and Hindu from Banaras Hindu University. Imagine if 10% of present day Indians are Christian/Anglo-Indian, perhaps Bombay would still be Bombay, IMHO.
Boston Mahesh, The Mughals were not colonisers, but naturalised Indians. Ponder a bit at the difference.
I wonder what Babur’s green card application fee was?
83 · bunty on November 20, 2007 01:04 AM · Direct link Boston Mahesh, The Mughals were not colonisers, but naturalised Indians. Ponder a bit at the difference.
How many “naturalised Indians” use Farsi as the administrative language? Use Persian architecture and not indigenous Indian architecture? Patronized Central Asian cooking techniques (using yogurt, introducing the tandoor, etc.), dancing techniques, etc. How many naturalized Indians marry Persians (i.e. Shah Jahan), Afghanis (i.e. Aurangzeb), etc?
Colonisers, by definition, try to impose their will/culture on a land. Uuhhhh…for sure the Mughals were great leaders in Indian standards, but skull pyramids doesn’t spur economic growth! The Mughals tried to impose their TURKIC language to lands that they conquered, and this tactic worked in Northern Afghanistan, North Western Iran (the Mughal cultural cousins spread Azeri languag from Turkmenistan), and so on.
It’s kind of PC to claim that the Mughals ruled “as Indian citizens.” Yeah, right. If you read Baburnama, the autobiography of Babur, you’d see how much he “liked” the Indians and his “Indian citizenship.” That’s really brown-washing history.
But to be fair, the Indian continent was colonised by many people. Pashtuns in various dynasties ruled Northern India, Turks many times over ruled as well, and so did Europeans. They all exploited India’s internal divisiveness and tribalness…
but I’ve always maintained that since ’47, India has been going through a Golden Age once again. It’s very unified, IMHO. I’d say that the ‘weakest link’ in India are the Far Easterners of Nagaland, Mizora, area. Indians who are not from these areas must see to it that they are engaged, respected, and included.
Boston Maheshji, if you are still reading this thread: I wonder what Babur’s green card application fee was?
hee hee.
How many “naturalised Indians” use Farsi as the administrative language?
As many as the number of desis that use Indian languages in their social interactions
Use Persian architecture and not indigenous Indian architecture?
As many as the number of desis that stuff their houses with desi motifs, a million ganpatis and elephants not excluded
How many naturalized Indians marry Persians?
As many as the number of desis that marry Indians
Colonisers, by definition, try to impose their will/culture on a land.
All autocrats do
Mughals were as american as ABCDs, that the is the point of the above repostes.
You and I can agree about the golden age bit, though the reason is democracy and the coming defeat of the upper castes by the likes of Mayawati. Can we also agree to shift our debate to a newer and even more irrelevant post? I almost missed your answers.
Where is that macaca SM intern when the thread needs him most?
http://www.apnaorg.com/articles/ruped/
As this thread is about Desi Languages, don’t you think we aren’t helping? Afterall even we are using English as a medium here. So chances do state languages have? See this link, even Punjabi is under threat
http://www.apnaorg.com/articles/nila/
well,can anyone tell me why we don’t have a vernacular word for ‘liberty’ in india? No,we don’t have it.
The Dhoti-Clad vernacular politicians often accuse us,who read,write,speak,sing and even dream in english ,of “APING THE WEST”.
Can they find a vernacular word for ‘liberty’?
its azadi up north
For Maharashtrians here interested in chatting in Marathi, Manogat is a fun discussion board..
liberty = swechha (in telugu)
i am not sure what you mean by vernacular—modern day indian languages were vernacular a millenium ago. today they are as “vernacular” as english is. no need for your condescension there, especially since you seem to know virtually nothing, not even simple words from these languages.
and who are you to judge “dhoti-clad vernacular politicians”? right or wrong, they have something to say that interests whoever elects them. statements like the above say more about you.
liberty in kannada: anirbandhate and bidugade; (political liberty) swaatantra; bidugade is also used as the judicial variant.
Couple of Telugu words for you: Swechha = Liberty Swaathanthryam = Freedom
Couple of other Telugu phrases that could be useful:
Baanisa Manasthathvam = slave mentality Aathma Dvesham = self hate
There has been many an occasion in history where multiple languages were used simultaneously by a society for different purposes. An obvious example is some European ruling classes using French while common people spoke in native tongues.
Ottoman empire used three different languages simultaneously. Members of the military, civil and religious elite conducted their business in Ottoman Turkish. Arabic was the primary language of religion, while Persian was the language of art/literature/diplomacy.
In the Indian scenario, I can see English taking the role of ‘language of commerce’, while Telugu/Tamil/Hindi/Punjabi/Bengali… taking on the status of ‘languages of art/literature’. Language of administration will probably continue to be a mixture of Hindi/Telugu/Tamil/Punjabi/Bengali… and English.
Thanks for the response.
I did not want a list of words with the similar meaning. What I meant was in India we don’t have a vernacular word for’liberty’ in the English,legal sense of ‘habeas corpus’.For us,Government is ‘hukumat’ or ‘raj’,both suggesting absolutism. Our idea of politics is’chanakyaneeti’.We bow and scrape before any and every tin-pot authority.Liberty under Law has never been a part of our consciousness.Our cities and towns have no local self-government worth speaking of.
We became a nation in awe of power and sought political pull in order to survive.A nation that worships power has no use of liberty .we lost our morality and became slaves.
“who are you to judge “dhoti-clad vernacular politicians”? right or wrong, they have something to say that interests whoever elects them. statements like the above say more about you.”
Same way,I’ve the right to express my views too,bytewords
v
People are made to feel and have been brainwashed in to thinking, Punjabi is an inferior language, say to Hindi or urdu and certainly English.
Is that not the real problem? Look at us, we are all using English, par aap noon desi samajday hun
Is not the problem the status given to English and Hindi to unite all regions?