Opinion To be a ‘Bangali’, one need not speak ‘Bengali’
Mamata Banerjee government’s recent order to show a Bengali film on prime time across multiplexes represents Bhadralok hegemony

The West Bengal government has directed all the multiplexes and cinema halls across the state to run at least one Bengali movie in prime time (3 pm to 9 pm). Apparently, this move has been lauded by many who feel that it will boost the Bengali film industry. But will the Bengali language or the culture of West Bengal benefit from this? Who produces the Bengali films? Aren’t the majority of the prominent Bengali film producers from outside of Bengal? Once known for luminaries like Satyajit Ray, Mrinal Sen, and Ritwik Ghatak, Bengali mainstream professional cinemas are now mostly dubbing the South Indian blockbusters. While a chunk of producers don’t belong to West Bengal, no targeted initiatives have been taken to empower independent or alternative filmmakers.
We must fight Hindi imposition, but we shouldn’t do the same thing that we are opposing. One brand of identity politics can’t be a solution to another brand of identity politics. Many non-Bengali-speaking people live across Bengal. A blanket imposition of Bengali cinema can make them feel disenfranchised. The term “Bangali” is as diverse as the word “Indian”. Someone not speaking Bengali doesn’t disqualify her from being a “Bangali”. People living in the bordering areas, or Terai or Dooars or the areas falling into GTA (Gorkha Land Territorial Administration) often face marginalisation and vilification by the so-called puritan Bengalis for their languages. I, as a Kamtapuri-speaking person, have often faced the same discrimination. The non-Bengali speakers are called by various names, sometimes even “foreigners”, very similar to what the Bengali migrant workers are called Hindi heartlands.
West Bengal is a very diverse land. Dialects change every 15-km. So this blanket notification may harm the sentiments of a large number of non-Bengali-speaking people. Language is not about the mere words; it’s about the feelings, the emotions that people attach to the lands they live in. Language is home.
Supporters of the Bengal government’s decision say that there are very few certified movies made in the additional official languages like Nepali, Santali, Kamtapuri, Rajbanshi, Kurukh, Telugu, and Punjabi. Then why is the government not taking initiatives to empower these additional official languages? According to the 2011 census, 86.22 per cent of people in Bengal speak Bengali, with almost 13 per cent speaking non-Bengali languages. Though there have been many movements to save the Bengali language, one shouldn’t forget the history of subnational movements in different parts of Bengal that clearly exposed the prevalent faultlines.
In this age of optics, performative politics is taking precedence over welfarism. Bengali language nationalism shouldn’t be used by Mamata Banerjee to return to power. Bengal has seen partition twice. Still, we have tried to stick together, celebrating both identity and differences. In the hills where most of the people are not Bengali-speaking, an often visible poster with “We are proud of our language, Bengali” is outrageous. It is what cultural hegemony looks like. The Bengali tourists, mostly Bhadraloks, who visit Darjeeling, might think everyone knows Bengali. But this is a misperception. They have to learn it for tourism purposes.
The culture of Bengal isn’t and should not be Kolkata-centric. Our choices of food, dresses and movies are diverse. Our government must respect it. “Bengali Ashmita” shouldn’t be limited to a purified version of the Bengali language that represents nothing but a minuscule section of the Bengali population.
The writer is a poet based in North Bengal