Earlier this week, Union Home Minister Amit Shah declared that soon, in India, English speakers would “feel ashamed”. The remark drew predictable outrage. Yet beyond knee-jerk criticism, the statement deserves discussion - about what it says about the ruling party’s approach to cultural politics and what it reveals about elite privilege and the mass resentment it provokes in our country.
One way to interpret the HM’s statement is to situate it in the Hind-Hindi-Hindu cultural project, an attempt by the BJP to impose Hindi on the country by replacing English with Hindi as a link language. This may indeed be a top-down ideological project, but it would require time and mobilisation to become electorally resonant. Moreover, the larger context in which this statement appears is not about privileging Hindi but about interpreting India through Bharatiya languages instead of “half-baked foreign languages”. What this interpretation thus misses - and what the HM is tapping into - is something more immediate and politically potent: mass resentment against the elite.
English in India doesn’t connote foreignness so much as it maps onto elite privilege. English is the language of opportunity, power, and decision-making in our country, and every aspect of it - vocabulary, accent, and fluency - serves as a marker of one’s class, cosmopolitanism, and a certain kind of modernity. English is a language of opportunity and hence aspiration in our country. Its widespread desirability renders it familiar, not foreign - what feels foreign is the world inhabited by those who speak primarily in English, calling themselves “world citizens”, flitting about and fitting seamlessly into a very mobile global elite - while those without such fluency are necessarily, and only, Indian.
But it is not just that English is a language of opportunity. There is also an unmistakable elitism directed against those who don’t fit the bill. This is evident in how sections of Indian liberals resort to ridicule of those on the right, including the Prime Minister, who may not speak English with similar levels of fluency and ease. The mockery directed at BJP leaders and supporters for their English reveals how English is still used as a gatekeeping tool, and highlights a persistent contradiction in sections of Indian liberals - one that rarely elicits the same outrage as the Home Minister’s statement.
Thus, what the HM is signalling is an inversion of that elite hierarchy - that soon it will be those who speak in English who will feel shame, and not vice versa. In a society where not knowing English often invites ridicule, the Home Minister’s statement turns the gaze back on the English-speaking elite. It is classic populism - displacing the sense of missing opportunity and resentment among the masses onto those who wield symbolic power. It is also notable that despite the BJP being in power for over two terms, what counts for the “elite establishment” is still the Indian National Congress and its liberal supporters and hence an antipathy towards this set also overlaps with the electoral politics of the BJP.
The second aspect of the HM’s statement has some truth: the path to understanding India is necessarily through languages spoken by its people. It is thus concerning if those in positions of power and privilege cannot speak any Indian language with the same level of fluency as English. The inability of many in positions of influence to speak any Indian language with fluency reflects not just an elite formation, but a cultural detachment. There is a legitimate democratic anxiety here: what does this say about our cultural priorities and our understanding of Indianness - including its plurality - if the elite are unable to locate themselves in any mass linguistic culture of our country?
The issues raised by the HM - a sense of shame in not knowing English, the unjustifiable gatekeeping of privilege and legitimacy by those natively fluent in English, and the cultural rootlessness of the elite - are all genuine democratic issues. The question, however, is: what is the nation-building - and not merely partisan - approach to addressing this situation?
This form of cultural revenge cannot be it. Many have pointed out that no one - including the BJP and RSS - has put this ideology into action by deprioritising English for their own children. This is because English is the undisputed language of opportunity within India and globally. We cannot celebrate India’s success in first the IT and BPO industry - and now in attracting GCCs - while running this form of resentment politics on the side.
Moreover, this brings us to a related question: why do the masses still feel ashamed about not knowing English? This is because of the state's abdication - because access to opportunity and power is still English-mediated. The suggestion that English speakers should feel ashamed is populist rhetoric with little substantive impact unless this is fixed. Attacking English’s cultural legitimacy may feel like justice. But unless that reversal is accompanied both by democratising opportunity - and access to English - this approach remains a form of resentment politics, not emancipation.
The nation-building path, then, is two-fold: to democratise English while inculcating pride in Indian languages. Both of these are highly positive projects - seeking to create new avenues for learning and platforms to showcase India’s rich linguistic heritage. In fact, if done right, this is a highly liberal project showcasing India’s diversity. The second element necessarily is a politics of development and equity which values - and treats with respect - the masses and working class.
There is, in fact, a genuinely liberal project here: one that seeks to ensure that no Indian should feel ashamed for knowing English, and no Indian should be excluded for not knowing it. A project that affirms both equity and pluralism. Resentment is a potent political tool. But emancipation requires something else: dignity, access, and imagination. The politics of shame cannot deliver what the politics of nation-building and opportunity can.
PS. In my work over the years, one issue which has consistently come up in conversations with college students from rural backgrounds is the inability to speak in English fluently - and the impact it has on their ability to move forward and fit in. This is also coming through in the “Pehli Peedi” Media Fellowship, which profiles first-generation college students - their aspirations and the barriers faced by them in their journey. Read, for instance, Mamta’s profile
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I absolutely grant that access to English is an immediate source of inequality in contemporary India. But unlike almost any other form of inequality (caste, money, etc), it's the easiest to fix, by democratizing access to English. This is low hanging fruit.
IMO this needs to become political and cultural commonsense... hence my resistance. (I know you don't disagree, this is a matter of difference of emphasis). Maybe one difference is that I wouldn't even attempt to make common ground with someone who doesn't recognise this...
Being from the southern part of the country and as someone who speaks broken Hindi, it terrifies me that the Honble HM is saying this. So many politicians from the Hindi heartland already spout openly that only those who speak in Hindi can be Indian citizens. This will give more impetus to such elements and as a counter reaction, will further harden the anti-Hindi stance taken by the regional parties in the South. I personally believe all Indian languages need to be promoted while democratizing English like you pointed out rightly. That's the way forward. Thank you.