With stainless skies overhead and sun shining in youthful vigour, everything seemed perfectly normal for Onge tribal men fishing in the Andaman sea, until they noticed a brooding storm in the pattern of the morning waves. The next morning, on December 27, 2004, when newspapers across the world got drenched in the catastrophic saga of the first major tsunami of the 21st century, what remained unnoticed was the fact that in the mouth of the very ocean that spelled doom, remained dotted the islands of Andaman, inhabited by 70,000 old tribes such as Sentinelese, Jarawas and Onges who did not face even a single fatality when death toll reported across 11 nations was 1,69,752.
The miraculous survival was orchestrated by the wisdom entrenched in their languages that has evolved through the years and has permeated into community reaction mechanisms. “While we think of the tribespeople and their ways as ‘primitive’, the tsunami shows us vividly the power of their knowledge base,” Anvita Abbi, a Padma Shree awardee language activist, writes. Unfortunately, many such knowledge economies across the world are vanishing at an unprecedented pace. With them, also disappears the cultural and scientific temper infused in them and the potential of inspiring miracles such as the one led by tribes of Andaman.
As per the UNESCO Atlas of the World’s Endangered Languages, 228 languages out of 7,000 have become extinct since 1950. About 10% of the languages are classified as ‘vulnerable’, while another 10% are ‘critically endangered (CE)’. In India, five languages perished since 1950, while 42 are critically endangered. According to Ethnologue’s statistics on the living languages of the world, 3,741 languages are (over half total) left with fewer than 1,000 speakers.
The art of enumeration of languages across the globe is a concern, as annoying benchmarks have paralysed the counting itself. According to another Padma Shree awardee language activist G.N. Devy, in India, one such benchmark is the necessity of 10,000 speakers for a language to qualify as a mother tongue. The 1961 census, which for the first time counted languages, pegged the number of mother tongues at 1,652. But this was followed by the 1971 Census, which by the virtue of the previous benchmark, pegged the number at 109. The 2011 Census too ended up classifying 1,369 languages in 121 group labels of five language families, which compromises with linguistic diversity being recorded in the best of its details. “The massive exercise consuming so much human time and energy needs to see how it can help a greater inclusion of the marginal communities, how our intangible heritage can be preserved and how India’s linguistic diversity can become our national pride,” Devy calls loss of a language as a loss of a unique worldview.
But the clamour surrounding indigenous language reclamation that begins from right to be recorded and recognised cannot be understood unless the threads of cultural vitality of language in context of identity remains unexplored. A bengali Bangladesh demanding nationhood in 1970s, a Dravidian heterogeneity confronting Hindi homogeneity in 1960s, Irish prisoners commanding Irish language brotherhood from HMP Long Kesh prison in 1970s, outburst of linguistic sovereignty in Post-Soviet Ukraine in 1990s or a linguistic compromise Post Anglo-Boer War in South Africa in 1950s– cases of linguistic assertiveness are infused in the DNA of social evolution of human history.
Analysing the dynamics of these moments of linguistic activism, Anurag Awasthi, a research fellow at Department of Philosophy, IIT Bombay, says, “The cultural gravity of language is enshrined in the instantaneous sense of association, which stems in an individual the moment he is exposed to his language community.” He calls it an inculcation of ESPRIT DE CORPS within a speech community. According to him, such spirit facilitates substantial improvement in the quality of communication and realisation of its goals. Perhaps Nelson Mandela was explaining this as he said, “If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart.”
Countries are now resolving to promote education in vernacular mediums for optimum utilisation of human capital. In consonance with this approach endorsed earlier by University Education Commission (1948-49), Secondary Education Commission (1952-53), and Kothari Commission (1964-66), the New Education Policy (NEP) 2020 released by the Indian government states that “Wherever possible, the medium of instruction till Grade 5 and preferably till Grade eight and beyond will be the home language/mother tongue/local language or regional language.” This directive certainly calls for cooperation of States as education being a subject under the Concurrent List-III (Seventh Schedule) of the Constitution allows them to be creative within constitutional limits.
But socio-linguists have been excited about the prospects of primary education being delivered in the mother tongue of the learner for decades now. Such a regime would rule out the chances of alienation in the child’s psyche in his/her very first exposure to blackboards, they feel. The efficiency of multi language models gets enhanced in such ‘creative, accommodative and yet native’ language models as children are psychologically more motivated to exploit the cognitive potential they are blessed with. Pattnaik states, “The language at school, if happens to be the one being used at home, it is easier for a student to relate to the classroom happenings and be shielded from the inferiority complex born out of a realisation wherein a medium looks strange.”
But challenges are humongous when it comes to ensuring delivery of education across stages in mother tongue. ‘The Gen Now’ is skeptical about pursuing higher studies in regional languages. Kripa Sreeraj, a 17-year-old Science student from Alappuzha district Of Kerala, says, “As I have studied all science-related terms in English, transition would be quite difficult.”
That does not mean that the popularity of the regional language in any sense lacks lustre among youth. When asked to choose out of English or Malayalam as subjects as per the level of comfort in the classroom, Kripa responds, “Definitely Malayalam…as it is my mother tongue. I have been responding to it since my birth. I feel I can always express myself better in Malayalam.” Even for creative recreation, when given an option, Kripa chooses Malayalam movies with no subtitles to English movies with no or Malayalam subtitles.
The enthusiasm of the likes of Kripa needs to be complemented with adequate linguistic infrastructure, developed on a ‘rights-based approach’ with translation and content development at the core of it. A pragmatic balancing act in delivering choices between classical, foreign and native languages too must be ensured with a special focus on revivalism of classical languages as our cultural ambassadors. In harmony with the same, the NEP proposes setting up of a new institution for all Indian languages and a national institute for Pali, Persian and Prakrit.
With constitutional mandates such as Article 350-B providing a special officer for linguistic minorities and executive resolutions paving the way for institutional architecture such as Centre for Indian Languages, the NEP too recommends an Indian Institute of Translation and Interpretation (IITI) to augment capabilities in linguistic studies. IITI will have a countrywide presence as department of translation and interpretation in Higher Education Institutions (HEIs) to produce textbooks in local languages as well as conduct quality programmes in study of translation and interpretation.
Eminent Serbian poet Dejan Stojanović once said, “The world that cannot be translated; It can only be dreamed of and touched.” Therefore, indispensability of translation in cross-cultural dialogues is itself an impetus to work out comprehensively enabling models for the same.
Teaching facilities and curriculum also calls for innovation and novel management practices if the mandate of the NEP is to be met. Motivated teachers, activists are still working across geographical coordinates to promote regional languages amidst headwinds of globalisation. Indhu Rajesh, a Malayalam teacher from Alappuzha district, Kerala, says, “There is a delusion in our society that learning in alien languages only will open avenues for higher education and employment. There are parents who feel proud when their kids speak in English. However, it cannot be concluded that children educated in their mother tongue are lagging behind.” Indhu Rajesh advocates for a system that readily accepts such students.
Realising this calls for constitutional acclamation of safeguards to expression. In Papua New Guinea, a geographical hotspot of languages of Austronesian families, government funding was initially only available for English-language facilities but thanks to the struggle led by churches and NGOs, the local-language pre-primary schools called ‘Viles Tok Ples Priskuls’ were soon officially recognised by the provinces, gaining national technical and financial support by 1986.
Globalisation is definitely emerging as a challenger to movements for indigenous languages but globalisation itself has also inspired identity consciousness more than ever. Anurag Awasthi, clarifies, “It has been realised that the capitalist forces on the run in the market have catered ‘Language for the masses’ to undermine ‘Language of the masses’. The popular culture coupled with consumerism has inspired a living where language has been reduced to an elitist version of communication. Being indigenous in dialect is considered being the odd one out.”
The pressure of social mobility felt by certain indigenous groups is unparalleled these days. An inferiority complex for Quechua, an indigenous language of Peruvian Andes, was developed by their own speakers for themselves. “Quechua was synonymous with social rejection, and thus became synonymous with discrimination,” says Hugo Coya, director of Peru’s TV and radio institute. “Speakers often did not want to admit they spoke Quechua in order to be accepted by the majority Spanish-speaking society.”
But times have changed. Good marketing coupled with creative imagination has popularised local languages across the spectrum. Punjabi and Haryanvi, two regional languages from north India, are extremely popular among the youth when it comes to the taste of music. A popular band group BTS gains historic highs in musical album views across the world even though the language they choose to work in is Korean, with a global speaker base of just 1.004% .
People now are vigilant more than ever about their language, culture and identity being undermined, and are asserting it on political, cultural, economic platforms. Technological advancements are being exploited to capitalise the exposure that globalisation has to offer to indigenous communities. Entertainment, Print and Mass Media houses have been attempting content and advertisement localisation to serve local aspirations in local languages itself. ‘Being viral’ (courtesy social media) and being ‘Vocal for Local’ is genuinely the new normal as novel disruptions such as Artificial Intelligence, Machine Learning, and Blockchain technologies show the promise to be enablers of greater degrees in proliferation of local languages.
Lakhan Chaudhary, a retired Principal of Sanskrit College in Darbhanga, Bihar, and now an editor at Kiran Maithili Sahitya Shodh Sansthan, an organisation dedicated to the revival of Maithili language and literature, says that technology has enabled speedy dissemination of event plans, publicity materials, and an influx of advertisements, funding, and content. “Connecting to people has become easier. And so has organising events, mobilising the audience and resources. Finding a printer and publisher in local areas itself has become easier. People are regaining faith in the potential of Maithili language. Some non-residents also approach us these days to get work published, as they want to be connected to their cultural roots. So ‘connection’ in the global era is what has redefined our spirits,” he says.
The sun is yet to set until the last speaker survives the pain of being the last speaker only to witness a dawn that marks the rejuvenation of the vanishing languages. It is an uphill task but certainly not an impossible one. For, reclaiming the ‘vanishing voices’ of humanity is about reclaiming the varied visions of life imbibed in them.
Infographics: NK Jha
Story edited by Aparna Nair, Swati Bhandari