By Nidhi Shukla | 22 July 2025
In the heart of India’s most industrialized and culturally rich state, Maharashtra, a troubling narrative is unfolding—one that reflects a crisis far deeper than a language debate. Recent controversies surrounding the implementation of a third-language policy in schools, particularly the compulsory inclusion of Hindi alongside English and Marathi, have stirred both political and social tensions. But beneath the surface lies a confrontation not just over language, but over the fundamental values enshrined in India’s Constitution—and the alarming disconnect between those values and their lived reality.
Maharashtra, a state that has historically championed its linguistic and cultural heritage, finds itself entangled in a debate over identity and imposition. The state’s government, aligning with the New Education Policy, recently mandated Hindi as a third language in primary schools. On the face of it, the three-language formula seems benign, aiming for multilingual fluency in an increasingly globalized India. But for many regional voices, especially Marathi linguistic advocates, this move appears as another step toward homogenizing India’s linguistic diversity—subtly privileging Hindi over other tongues.
At the heart of this resistance lies a contradiction. India, despite having no national language, operates with Hindi and English as its official languages, alongside the recognition of regional languages like Marathi. The Indian Constitution, in its essence, guarantees every citizen the freedom to choose their language of communication. Articles 14 and 15 uphold the principles of equality and non-discrimination, protecting citizens from biases based on language, religion, caste, or place of birth. These are not just lofty ideals—they are actionable rights.
Yet, what we’ve witnessed in recent months starkly contradicts these constitutional guarantees. Groups like the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS), under the guise of protecting Marathi identity, have resorted to coercive and violent methods. Shopkeepers and citizens unable to speak Marathi have been publicly assaulted, their shops vandalized—actions that echo a dangerous disregard for the law. This is not advocacy; it is vigilantism rooted in exclusionary nationalism. It reflects a frightening trend where certain groups feel entitled to police cultural behavior without constitutional sanction.
This behavior raises serious questions about the credibility of such opinion leaders and their understanding—if any—of constitutional values. Are these leaders truly guardians of regional identity, or are they exploiting linguistic pride for political leverage, especially in an election season?
The role of the media, which ideally should act as a watchdog and an educator, has been ambiguous at best. While media outlets have covered the events, they have largely failed to contextualize them within the framework of constitutional rights and responsibilities. Instead of enlightening the public, many channels have inadvertently (or intentionally) amplified political narratives, sidelining the real issues faced by Mumbaikars—such as infrastructure, governance, and public service delivery—especially with the BMC elections approaching.
The controversy has thus polarized discourse, shifting attention from governance to identity politics. The media, rather than unpacking the hidden motives of political actors or providing civic education, has often chosen sensationalism. This omission is not just irresponsible—it’s dangerous. Media’s role is not only to inform and entertain but to educate citizens about their rights, responsibilities, and the power structures that shape their lives.
Yet, amid this institutional failure, there is a glimmer of resistance—and it comes from the youth. Studies suggest that 89% of Indian youth are aware of constitutional values, and many actively use digital media to voice dissent. Through meme culture, comment threads, reels, and alternative platforms, young Indians are reclaiming the narrative. Their engagement isn’t just reactive—it is reflective, drawing on media literacy to question authority and unpack political agendas. They are aware, informed, and increasingly unwilling to accept rhetoric without scrutiny.
Still, this awakening is not without obstacles. Many young people express frustration at the performative nature of constitutional values in Indian society. For them, these rights often exist only in textbooks and speeches—not in practice. Influenced by elders who sometimes disregard legal principles for emotional or political gains, youth often find themselves caught between idealism and apathy.
So what does this controversy ultimately reveal?
It tells us that India’s constitutional framework is both robust and fragile. It holds the promise of equality and pluralism, but it requires active participation, not just passive reverence. It shows us that language is more than a tool of communication—it is a symbol of identity, power, and access. And it exposes the critical need for widespread constitutional literacy, not just among youth, but across generations.
Maharashtra is not simply suffering from linguistic confusion. It is grappling with a deeper malaise—a failure to uphold constitutional values in public life. And unless this gap between what the law promises and how society behaves is bridged, similar controversies will continue to erupt, diverting attention from pressing civic issues and weakening the democratic fabric.
In a nation as diverse as India, unity can never come from enforced uniformity. It must emerge from mutual respect, awareness, and a shared commitment to the Constitution—India’s greatest democratic tool, still awaiting its true potential.
Nidhi Shukla is Media researcher and freelance journalist focusing on constitutional rights and culture
