Afsara Ayub provides a sociological analysis of the linguistic landscape of Kolkata and its impact on religious identity.
Language is one of the most essential elements in the evolution of society. It is not only a tool for communication but a key marker of identity, belongingness, and civilisation. In modern times, it plays a determining role in nation-building. However, in a country like India, which has people from diverse backgrounds, linguistic identity coupled with the rise of migration has been a debatable topic for politicians, administration, and academicians; most importantly for the concerned people whose linguistic identities are tightly interwoven with religious, socio-political, and economic status.
Muslims in India, particularly in Bengal, represent a fascinating yet complex picture of language and identity. However, sharing the same religion, Muslims in West Bengal are linguistically and culturally different. On the one hand, Bengali-speaking Muslims largely settled in rural areas have some commonalities with the culture and origin of Bengali Hindus, whereas another group is Urdu-speaking Muslims, largely settled in urban areas, particularly Kolkata, with a migrant identity from Bihar and Uttar Pradesh. The presence of these two, ethnically different, Muslim groups in the state challenges the notion of Muslims as a culturally homogenous group, demanding a critical understanding of the nature of integration, marginalisation, and resistance faced by these two communities.
Residential segregation based on religion and language
Urdu-speaking Muslims in West Bengal, predominantly identified as migrants from the Hindi-speaking belt, first came and settled in large numbers during the time of Wajid Ali Shah and second during the twentieth century of industrial development in Kolkata. However, these Muslims as migrants, Urdu-speakers, and largely from lower-middle-class backgrounds place them in a unique socio-political situation.
From early morning until late at night, interactions with Urdu-speaking Muslims primarily revolve around their community members, fostering a sense of familiarity and security among them. Although they live close to all major commercial areas and basic amenities of the city, they live in a residential segregation of ghetto-like spaces. For instance, in the case of the Urdu-speaking Muslims living in Rajabazar, their residential segregation is drawn from factors like religion, language, and economic conditions. The majority of those living in these ghettos are engaged in informal economies such as embroidery, paper craft, leather craft, bangle-making, shoe-making, taxi driving, and so on. They mostly work within the premises of their own localities, meaning the city often exhibits many workshops and warehouses situated in the same building. The area also has six Urdu medium schools where students mostly come from the Rajabazar locality to receive education. However, due to their occupational and educational engagement being restricted to within their residential area, a large number of people could not engage with ethnically and religiously diverse communities. It is even more problematic for women and young children who remain largely confined to their households and the local community. Their daily interactions are primarily limited within their community. Thus it limits their exposure to the Bengali language, reducing their perceived necessity to learn it.
The inadequacy of the nation-building model
However, this linguistic insularity is not limited to social interactions with dominant communities, it poses challenges in claiming wider economic opportunities and political equality. Since a large section of them are not well versed in the Bengali language, it makes it linguistically more difficult to claim government jobs particularly because linguistic proficiency is one of the most dominant apparatus of the state.
Unlike other states in India, the Urdu speaking Muslims in Kolkata are a minority on several grounds; religion, language, and lower socio-economic backgrounds. This brings to the fore an unresolved debate around pluralism and nation-building, which demands a critical lens regarding the assimilation of the marginalised communities and the pursuit of socio-political equality in a multicultural society.
While learning a common language may facilitate public deliberation, it does not necessarily lead to unity or equality, especially during the transition period when not everyone speaks the dominant language. Without incentives to learn each other’s languages, communities remain segregated, leading to subjective perceptions, and creating conditions for segregated collective imaginaries. Nevertheless, these subjective perceptions are not natural or static but are actively constructed through various socio-political processes.
In multilingual societies, each language holds a specific position at socio-economic and political levels in the state. And, while language is a significant element of segregation, other factors also play crucial roles. For instance, the Hindu-Muslim communal politics along linguistic lines in the late 19th and 20th centuries, which persisted even after partition, demonstrated efforts to portray Indian Muslims as a homogenous group. After India’s independence in 1947, Urdu-speaking Muslims faced significant challenges as they found themselves in a minority position due to political shifts and demographic changes. The partition led to the migration of a large number of Urdu-speaking Muslims to Pakistan, weakening their socio-political influence in India. Those who remained faced marginalisation, particularly due to the State Reorganization Act 1956 which reorganised Indian states along regionally dominant linguistic lines. The symbolic connection between Urdu and Muslim identity, which was strong during colonial rule, weakened as Indian Muslims became increasingly diverse in linguistic and regional affiliations. In West Bengal, Urdu-speaking Muslims found themselves marginalised not just by the state’s preference for Bengali but also by Bengali-speaking Muslims who rejected the association of Urdu with a homogenous Muslim identity. According to Paul Brass (2005), this is how an “objective community”—a group with shared linguistic, cultural, or religious traits—is transformed into a “subjective community”, where these traits are politically mobilised to create a sense of distinctiveness and conflict.
This process is particularly evident in this case. Neither Bengali-speaking nor Urdu-speaking Muslims in West Bengal could hold the dominant position due to weakened numbers after partitions, internal and external factors of subjective perceptions between the Urdu and Bengali-speaking Muslims, lack of political leaders, the cultural hegemony of elite Bengali Hindus, and general systemic discrimination. Nevertheless, this hierarchy is not just about language but also about the status of its speakers, which is often framed in the binary of majority and minority in a multicultural society. The question of inclusion and exclusion does not rely on a single factor but the inherent conflict between internal and external factors which is an outcome of the larger communal politics of majority and minority, along with diverse socio-economic representation, language, historical legacy, and migration, among others.
Urdu-speaking Muslims as ‘Kalkattiya’
To further understand their perceptions, the Urdu-speaking Muslims of the Rajabazar ghetto were asked to articulate their identity. Considering, religion, caste, class, language, they mentioned ‘Kalkattiya’ instead of Bengali to highlight their urban migrant population from Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, with cultural traits similar to North Indians living in the heart of the city of Kolkata. Due to its association with urban migrants, the term ‘Kalkattiya’ is often used derogatively in colloquial politics, especially when compared with Bengalis. However, as ‘Kalkattiyas’, they also have a sense of pride and achievement compared to their Bihari counterparts living in Bihar. A single term addressing these people varies from context to context, highlighting power relations and the politics of non-recognition.
The numerical and linguistic superiority of Bengali speakers, coupled with their historical legacy as natives, contributes to hesitation and apprehension among Urdu speakers. As a result, the Urdu-speaking Muslims are led to perceive themselves as outsiders to the broader linguistic landscape of Kolkata despite their longstanding historical presence in the city. Due to this, the community is compelled to live in secluded ghettos while carrying the burden of communal past on their shoulders without any recognition. And that is why, Jeremy Seabrook and Imran Ahmed Siddiqui call them, ‘people without history’.
Photo by Boudhayan Bardhan
Note: This article gives the views of the author, not the position of LSE Religion and Global Society nor the London School of Economics and Political Science.
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