– Abdul Bari Masoud

In late June 2025, as the monsoon clouds gathered over Mumbai, another kind of storm broke loose in Maharashtra – a storm of language, identity, and resistance.

Faced with unrelenting pressure from civil society, educators, artists, and opposition parties, the BJP-led Maharashtra government was forced to withdraw two contentious resolutions mandating Hindi as a compulsory third language in all State Board primary schools. What began as a bureaucratic policy decision rapidly snowballed into a grassroots uprising, sparking debates that struck at the heart of India’s federal and cultural structure.

Observers underline that Maharashtra’s move was more than a policy reversal – it was a resounding rejection of the RSS-BJP’s ideological project of “One Nation, One Language.” On their home turf, no less.

The Circulars

On April 16, 2025, the Maharashtra Education Department quietly issued a government resolution (GR) introducing Hindi as a mandatory third language for Classes 1 to 5 in Marathi- and English-medium State Board schools – part of a broader push to align with the NEP 2020.

But the backlash was immediate. Opposition parties – including Shiv Sena-UBT, the NCP-SCP, and the Congress – denounced it as “Hindi imposition.” Teachers’ unions, educationists, journalists, and Marathi literary figures joined in protest. Petitions were signed, rallies planned, and social media erupted with the slogan: “Mi Marathi” (I am Marathi).

By June 29, the government, bowing to pressure, revoked the order and announced a new expert committee led by economist and educationist Dr. Narendra Jadhav to re-evaluate the policy. But the politico-cultural consequences had already taken root.

One Nation, One Language?

The outrage in Maharashtra cannot be separated from the BJP and RSS’s ideological commitment to a singular national identity. Since 2014, the push to promote Hindi as the national lingua franca has been unmistakable – through bureaucratic directives, changes to education policy, and public advocacy by senior RSS functionaries.

RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat has repeatedly framed Hindi as the “link language” essential to national unity. Though the NEP 2020 does not explicitly make Hindi mandatory, its three-language formula, when applied in non-Hindi states, often translates into Hindi being inserted alongside English and the regional language.

But India is not a monolingual republic. It is a linguistic mosaic, a federation of tongues – with over 19,500 languages and dialects recorded in the 2011 Census.

This attempt at standardisation, many fear, is not about education – it’s about cultural centralisation. And Maharashtra, a state with a deep and proud linguistic heritage, was never going to accept that lightly.

Maharashtra occupies a curious place in India’s linguistic and political imagination. It is the birthplace of Jyotiba Phule, Babasaheb Ambedkar, and Bal Thackeray – towering figures of social justice, federalism, and regional pride. The state gave rise to the Samyukta Maharashtra movement in the 1950s, which led to the creation of a Marathi-speaking state in 1960 after years of agitation.

That spirit of Marathi asmita (self-respect) still runs deep.

“Hindi is not the problem – compulsion is,” said a Marathi schoolteacher from Pune who joined the protests. “Let our children learn languages by choice, not coercion. Marathi must never be reduced to a secondary language in its own homeland.”

When Resistance Becomes Realignment

The controversy yielded an unexpected political twist. For the first time in two decades, Uddhav Thackeray (Shiv Sena-UBT) and his estranged cousin Raj Thackeray (MNS) shared a stage at a “Victory Rally” in Mumbai on July 5, marking the rollback of the language order.

“Our strength lies in our unity,” Uddhav said, invoking Bal Thackeray’s legacy. Raj took the fight to the Hindi heartland, asking, “What is the third language in Uttar Pradesh or Bihar?” – highlighting the asymmetry of imposition.

Uddhav said they would not let the government impose Hindi on the people. No one should cast an evil eye on Marathi and Maharashtra, he added.

“Our strength should be in our unity. Whenever there is a crisis, we come together, and after that, we again start fighting amongst ourselves,” he said. The BJP’s “batenge toh katenge” (divided we fall) slogan, coined during the last Assembly polls, was meant to divide Hindus and Muslims. However, in reality, the BJP used it to divide Maharashtrians, he said, accusing it of being “traders in politics”.

Together, they hinted at a potential electoral alliance for the upcoming BMC polls, with language pride positioned as a central theme. Ironically, the BJP’s overreach may have triggered the resurgence of a regional front long thought fractured.

Echoes of Tamil Nadu

To understand the significance of Maharashtra’s resistance, one must look south – to Tamil Nadu, the cradle of anti-Hindi resistance.

In the late 1960s, Tamil Nadu erupted in protest when the Indian government attempted to impose Hindi as the sole official language of the country, replacing English. Students led mass agitations across the state; more than 60 people lost their lives. The DMK capitalised on the movement, coming to power in 1967 and establishing Tamil pride and linguistic autonomy as pillars of its governance.

That movement altered the trajectory of Indian politics and etched a permanent constitutional check against linguistic centralisation. Tamil Nadu still doesn’t follow the three-language formula – and has become a symbol of federal resistance.

Now, leaders like Chief Minister M.K. Stalin are drawing parallels. “The anti-Hindi movement has crossed the Vindhyas,” he said, praising Maharashtra’s stance and warning the Centre against tying central funds to NEP compliance.

Stalin also raised an uncomfortable truth: if Hindi is promoted in non-Hindi states, why isn’t Tamil, Bengali, or Marathi taught in North Indian states? The asymmetry is glaring, and the silence from the Centre only deepens the suspicion.

Constitution Guarantees

The Indian Constitution guarantees linguistic pluralism, not hierarchy. Articles 343 to 351 recognise 22 scheduled languages. Article 29 protects the rights of linguistic minorities. The Supreme Court has upheld the right of states and parents to choose the language of instruction.

While NEP 2020 promotes mother-tongue learning, making Hindi compulsory in non-Hindi speaking states contradicts both educational science and constitutional morality. Pedagogical studies have repeatedly shown that children learn best in their first language, particularly in early childhood. Imposing a third language early – especially in rural and tribal belts – adds stress without benefit.

The newly appointed Narendra Jadhav Committee now faces a complex task: craft a policy that protects Marathi’s functional centrality – in signage, administration, education, and digital spaces – while promoting voluntary, organic multilingualism rather than top-down conformity.

As Maharashtra prepares for the crucial BMC polls, language politics is likely to dominate headlines. But beneath the electoral calculations lies a larger question: Can India stay united without becoming uniform?

In many ways, this isn’t just a debate about Hindi or Marathi. It’s about India’s future as a nation that celebrates diversity rather than demands conformity.

Many Tongues, One Nation

The Maharashtra language row is not merely a curriculum dispute. It is a referendum on the soul of the Indian Republic. The RSS-BJP vision of “One Nation, One Language” may resonate with the centralising instincts of majoritarian politics – but it is profoundly out of sync with India’s lived reality.

India speaks not one language but a thousand stories. If our unity is to survive, it must rest on respect for difference, not erasure.