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Language planning and policy in the Punjab education system: A critical analysis
by
Satwinder Kaur Bains
M.Ed., Simon Fraser University, 2004
B.A., St. Bedes College, 1975
Thesis Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree of
Doctor of Philosophy
in the
Curriculum and Theory Implementation Program
Faculty of Education
© Satwinder Kaur Bains 2019
SIMON FRASER UNIVERSITY
Summer 2019
Copyright in this work rests with the author. Please ensure that any reproduction or re-use is done in accordance with the relevant national copyright legislation.
ii
Approval
Name: Satwinder Bains
Degree: Doctor of Philosophy
Title: Language planning and policy in the Punjab education system: A critical analysis
Examining Committee: Chair: Michael Ling Senior Lecturer
Mark Fettes Senior Supervisor Associate Professor
Steve Marshall Supervisor Associate Professor
Danièle Moore Internal Examiner Professor
E. Annamalai External Examiner Visiting Professor South Asian Languages and Civilizations University of Chicago
Date Defended/Approved: August 15, 2019
iii
Abstract
Since it became an independent country in 1947, India has wrestled with the
question of how to manage its vast range of languages. According to the Three-
Language Formula, a political compromise originating in the post-independence
debates of the 1950s, each federal state should ensure its citizens have access
at least to Hindi, English, and a third language that may be a regional language
or, in the northern Hindi-speaking states, a language from southern India.
Through a study of the historical development and ramifications of this policy,
and especially its implementation in the northwestern border state of Punjab, it is
shown to align with the long-established tendency for national language planning
and policies to entrench historical and sociopolitical inequities. Analysis of
Punjab’s public-education policy texts by means of critical discourse analysis
highlights the (re)production of political ideologies and social hierarchies in the
implementation of State-level language policy within the government-run school
system. The sociolinguistic realities of the region are not always reflected in the
policy directives that influence public education in Punjab. This case study adds
to the literature showing that powerful sociopolitical forces continue to impact the
position of vernaculars in India and that its linguistically diverse states and policy
frameworks are unable to accommodate numerous languages on the margins.
Keywords: Multilingualism; language policy and planning; official
languages; education policy; policy implementation; Punjab; India; critical
discourse analysis
iv
Dedication
To my beloved family.
v
Acknowledgements
Firstly, I would like to acknowledge and give sincere thanks to my thesis
supervisor Dr. Mark Fettes for his undying support for my PhD studies. He has
provided me with the vision to work on this topic as a labour of love. With his
steady hand, this thesis has become what I hope is my contribution to a field of
work that is dynamic and ever changing. He has been patient, motivating, and
above all so generous with his knowledge that he shared with me.
I would like to thank Dr. Steve Marshall for being part of my supervisory
committee and for his insightful comments and encouragement. Dr. Daniele
Moore’s and Dr. E. Annamalai’s willingness to serve as examiners in the middle
of the summer vacation is gratefully appreciated.
My family have been absolute rocks in this entire time, they have
supported, cajoled and buoyed me along the way. My partner Parm, my children
Simran, Suvi and Nav are like the bedrock that one needs along life’s journey.
Thank you for all your endless love, your motivational messages and your
constant encouragement to me. I could not have done this without you. My
parents are smiling down on me, this I know and are beaming with pride,
knowing all that it took to embark and stay with this long journey.
vi
Table of Contents
Approval ............................................................................................................................ ii Abstract ............................................................................................................................. iii Dedication ........................................................................................................................ iv Acknowledgements ........................................................................................................... v Table of Contents ............................................................................................................. vi List of Tables ................................................................................................................... viii List of Figures................................................................................................................... ix List of Acronyms ................................................................................................................ x
Mother Tongue, Languages and Policy Impacts .................................... 1 1.1. Introduction ............................................................................................................. 1
Context and Theoretical Framework ..................................................... 14 2.1. Key foci and themes .............................................................................................. 14 2.2. Why critical theory? ............................................................................................... 19 2.3. The historical roots of language planning ............................................................. 22 2.4. Critical Theory and LPP ........................................................................................ 26 2.5. Critical theory and LPP in the Indian Context ....................................................... 28 2.6. Critical theory and LPP in the local context ........................................................... 34
India’s language policy ........................................................................... 42 3.1. From Colonialization to Independence .................................................................. 42 3.2. Policy in a Multilingual Democracy ........................................................................ 50 3.3. A critical analysis of India’s language policy ......................................................... 59
3.3.1. Hindi and English: rivalry or complicity? ........................................................ 60 3.3.2. The neglect of minority languages ................................................................ 62 3.3.3. Multilingualism in education .......................................................................... 65
Methodology ............................................................................................ 70 4.1. Critical Discourse Analysis and language planning and policy ............................. 70 4.2. Data collection ....................................................................................................... 73
Punjabi and Punjab – language policy development and implementation .................................................................................................... 83
5.1. Punjab and Punjabi: an introduction ..................................................................... 83 5.2. History of Punjabi language planning and policy .................................................. 87 5.3. Punjab School Board of Education ....................................................................... 92 5.4. Impact of language planning and policy discourse at the PSEB ........................... 99
5.4.1. Circular # 146, Implementation of Parho Punjab, Paraho Punjab Project in Schools, 04/15/.2018 ........................................................................................... 101 5.4.2. Circular # 5, Model Test Paper Class 8th Science ....................................... 105 5.4.3. Circular #136, Regarding Punjab State Language Act, 2008, 5/9/2018 ..... 105
vii
5.4.4. Circular #71, Implementation of Buddy Group System in Schools, 12/10/2018 .................................................................................................................... 106 5.4.5. Circular # 100, Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab meeting through Edusat, 08/20/2018; Circular #101, One day workshop on Punjabi subject under Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab Project, 16/08/2018 ........................................................................... 107 5.4.6. SCERT Learning outcomes, 2017 related to Circular #144, Display of Learning Outcomes in classrooms, 4/17/2018 .......................................................... 108 5.4.7. Circular # 144, Display of Learning Outcomes in Classrooms, 04/17/2018 109 5.4.8. Circular # 98, Improvement in vocabulary of students for Punjabi subject, 08/28/2018; Circular # 169, English subject competition under Parho Punjab, 2/3/2018 .................................................................................................................... 110 5.4.9. Circular #19 – Admission in pre-primary classes 12/15/2018 ..................... 111 5.4.10. Circular #15 -Admission of Students in Govt. Schools, 12/17/2018 ........ 112 5.4.11. Circular #181 - Parent Teacher Meeting, 7/28/2017 ............................... 112 5.4.12. Circular # 40 – Punjab Transparency and Accountability in Delivery of Public Services Act 2018, 11/14/2018 ....................................................................... 113 5.4.13. Circular # 42, Evaluation of pre-primary students, 11/10/2018 ............... 114 5.4.14. Overall commentary on the policy directive corpus ................................. 114
5.5. Issues of language education in Punjab ............................................................. 117 5.6. Language ecology of Punjab ............................................................................... 122
Conclusion ............................................................................................. 128
References ................................................................................................................... 139
Appendix A. List of Authorities ............................................................................ 160
Appendix B. Punjab Official Language Policy .................................................... 161
Appendix C. Eighth Schedule of Indian Constitution ......................................... 171
Appendix D. Article 343 of the Indian Constitution ............................................ 174
Appendix E. PSEB Policy Directives ................................................................... 180
Appendix F. Circular #146 Punjabi ...................................................................... 187
viii
List of Tables
Table 1. Plurilingual Population ............................................................................. 51 Table 2. Punjab School Board of Education Policy Division org. chart ................. 95
ix
List of Figures
Figure 1. Map of India Pakistan partition 1947 ....................................................... 16 Figure 2. Bifurcation of Punjab ............................................................................... 90
x
List of Acronyms
BPEO Block Primary Education Officer BRP Block Resource Person CABE Central Board of Education CBSE Central Board of School Education CDA Critical Discourse Analysis CHT Cluster Head Teachers CMT Cluster Master Teacher CSIE Central Advisory Board of Education DEO District Education Officer DGSE Director General School Education DPI Director Public Instruction DRP District Resource Person DTEIT Department of Teacher Education and Industrial Training ERA English Review Committee NCERT National Council of Education Research and Training NPE National Policy on Education OLA Official Language Act OLC Official Language Commission PSEB Punjab School Education Board RTE Right to Education SCERT State Council of Education Research and Training SPD State Project Director SRC State Reorganization Committee SSA Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan TLF Three Language Formula UEC University Education Commission
1
Mother Tongue, Languages and Policy Impacts
First, there is no feature of society which is as inevitable as language. Even religion is not inevitable – one can be an atheist, agnostic, secularist, or rationalist. But nobody can live without language; there is no alternative to language. Second, while the possibility of alternatives exists in the case of religion, it is non-accommodative of these alternatives. Nobody can be a Hindu and a Muslim, or an atheist and a believer, at the same time. In contrast, the space for negotiation is substantial in the case of language; one can learn several languages without necessarily diminishing the importance of any. It is simply a matter of one’s inclination, competence and resources.
Oomen, T.K., 2002, p.285.
I know of an Oriya married to a Tamil, speaking English at home, living in a Bengali neighbourhood with children taken care of by a Hindustani Ayah and a Nepali Loon man. I always say that those children have six mother tongues.
Pattanayak, D., 1988, p. 387.
1.1. Introduction
In a particular manner, my own family background and school education inform
my desire to study the semiotic relationship of language with members of a linguistic
community. I grew up in India, in the former province of Punjab, and my hybrid and fluid
linguistic repertoire developed in a private school where English was the medium of
instruction (MOI) and the other two languages (Hindi and Punjabi) were subjects within
the curriculum. I also spoke Punjabi at home and Hindi was the lingua franca of society
generally in northern India where I lived and was schooled. This linguistically rich
education was a direct result of a national language policy directed by the Three
Language Formula which (even today) provides every student in principle with an
opportunity to study Hindi, (the official national language), English (the other national
2
language which is the language of higher education, business and bureaucracy) and a
regional tongue (Sengupta, 2018).
Looking back, I am illogically surprised how I had never fully appreciated the
background weight of language policy and planning as a political act within the
Constitution of India that directly affected my education. Schiffman (2002) disagrees with
typologizing language policies as if they have no background, “as if the choice of
language policies was totally random, from ‘off the shelf’ as it were, without any
relationship to the historical, social, cultural, educational or religious conditions extant in
a particular area” (p. 5). This is confirmed by my experience. I had grown up in the
aftermath of the horrific land-division in the 1947 partition including the division of India’s
frontier province of Punjab (on religious lines) between West Pakistan and a reduced
Indian state Punjab, and had heard hushed stories of great pain, extreme violence, and
loss of life, home, land, languages, cultural spaces, friends, etc. in the midst of
communal conflict and religious strife. As a result, all the conditions listed above
(historical, social, cultural, educational and religious) were present in everyday discourse
in my formative years.
In undivided Punjab (before 1947), while my father’s mother tongue growing up
was Punjabi, his middle-class gentrified urban schooling was in Urdu and English as
directed by language policies of the British Raj; my mother’s rural education had been
solely in Punjabi. As children, living in the Hindi majority province of Himachal Pradesh,
we switched between Punjabi, Hindi and English with ease because we lived amongst
all three languages, which were available to us as communities of practice. Culturally, as
a family, we were holding on to our Punjabi roots (Punjabiyat) even though we lived in
Hindi-centric Shimla, which was the capital city of the newly created state (est. 1966). In
these complicated conditions, I received my formative education in the English
language, learned Hindi and Punjabi as subjects, practiced the Sikh faith in a
predominantly Hindu (and Hindi speaking) state while studying in an all-girls English
medium Protestant school.
As for most Indians, this diverse linguistic and cultural upbringing did not bind or
constrain me within a single language or culture, and in hindsight I believe it helped
expand my frames of reference. I chose values of linguistic form freely from amongst
these three languages. The diverse linguistic cultures around me impressed upon me
3
how languages are socially constructed. Having access to/utility in these rich and
diverse environments of India (Mohanty, 2019a) provided me with an ecological
orientation to my repertoire of languages.
However, time passed and I immigrated to Canada in 1975, settling into
Vancouver society and paying scant attention to the need for mother tongue retention as
I negotiated my new racially constructed identity (now informed by the gaze of the
dominant other, the white Anglo Canadian culture of British Columbia). It was only when
I wanted to share my own language pool with my children that I started to appreciate and
realize the intrinsically value-laden trajectory of language maintenance. I became more
aware that as a young person I had lived through and experienced languages in socio-
cultural contexts that were different from those in Canada and I had done this with
relative ease. Although in Canada these languages still embodied means of familial
interaction and communication, my mother tongue was slowly fading from expression
with my children. They quickly mastered the dominant language, and to some extent
pushed away the mother tongue, partly due to stressful linguistic societal norms and the
forces of assimilationist expectations in Canadian society in the 1980’s and 90’s (Nayar,
2004).
When my children joined the public-school system in Canada in 1984, I found it
hard to reconcile myself to the singularly bi-lingual policy of Canada, which in its
implementation falls well short of assuring fluency in two languages in most of Canada.
Although I embraced bilingual education wholeheartedly and enrolled my children in
French Immersion schooling in the public education system, I felt this constant void
around access to their heritage language/ mother tongue. Furthermore, actual prejudice
and discrimination – what Skutnabb-Kangas & Phillipson call linguicism (2008, 1994) –
was something my children encountered on many occasions. For example, in 1994 a
teacher discouraged us as parents from speaking Punjabi with our child, because in the
teacher’s estimation we were undermining her attempts to learn French and English in
school as there were too many languages in the home. I was appalled (and felt violated)
by her ignorant, paternalistic and limiting approach, because I knew that over time the
dominant school languages would naturally dominate my children’s everyday lives.
It is this thought – of the power of languages and the impact of linguicism – that
instigated the underlying urgency for my intellectual path, leading me back to my polyglot
4
roots in India. I had been nurturing a growing realization that just as in Canada, India too
struggles with how language is (or languages are) called upon to be an enduring factor
in defining a nation-state and used to support certain dominant ideologies through its
prescribed usage. Shohamy’s (2006) view reflects my own: “While most nations
nowadays, more than ever before, consist of diverse groups – immigrants, indigenous
populations, transnationals, and others, it is primarily through language that the battles
between homogenous ideologies, hegemony and power vs. diversity, voice,
representation and inclusion continue to take place” (p.4).
It is also commonly understood that linguistic discrimination is linked to other
forms of prejudice, stereotypes and historical inequities towards students for whom
English is not the first language. For example, Dei et al (2002, 2000) undertook a three-
year study in Ontario to document the reasons for racially marginalized students’
disengagement in schools. They concluded: “Differences associated with race, gender,
class, sexuality, language, culture, religion, and region must be recognized as social
realities. To promote and work toward a truly inclusive society, educators must
understand and teach about differences and how they are related to power” (p.62). It is
this intersectionality of our social lives that brings to the fore the importance of home
language maintenance and retention as a foundation to combat the kinds of adversity
language-minority children face in schools. Heller (2017), along with other scholars
suggests that the development and maintenance of society’s social hierarchies and
ensuing inequities is linked to language, supporting the view that educational equity
must be addressed through the work of social justice (Piller, 2016; Corson, 1993). The
power and corresponding entrenched structural disadvantages that are inherent in the
social, political and economic use of languages are well documented (Piller, 2016;
Heller, 2014; Fairclough, 1995; Gal, 1989; Irvine, 1989).
Meshtrie (2008), in his study on the world’s linguistic varieties, suggests that
there are almost no countries in the world “where everyone speaks or identifies with one
language” (p.74). Khubchandani (1997) rightly supports this claim for India when he says
that, “in multilingual societies of the Indian subcontinent, one notices an inevitable
measure of fluidity in the verbal repertoire of many speech groups who command native
like control over more than one language” (p.182). The difficulty is as Mohanty (2019a)
suggests, where in India, this fluidity of linguistic boundaries has been used to arbitrarily
club large numbers of mother tongues under a single ‘other” by government for example
5
in the census. However, what is unique about India’s state of multilingualism is the
hierarchical tension between and across languages and language groups, especially
around the privileged role of English – a throwback to the three hundred years of British
Raj. The British colonial rulers had inculcated within the Indian masses dimensions of
linguistic elitism, classism and power hierarchy to rival that of the caste system in
Hinduism (Mohanty, 2019a, Amritavalli & Jayaseelan, 2007; Mohanty, 2006; Spolsky,
2006; Biswas, 2004; Pattanayak, 1988).The tensions between this top-down system of
rank and privilege and a fluidity of boundaries within grassroots multilingualism are most
dramatically exemplified in India than perhaps anywhere else in the world (Mohanty,
2019a).
Historically, India’s biggest challenge post-independence, has been to create a
national identity, with linguistic identity as a central element of that. Despite the best
efforts of language planning and policy over the last seventy years, the hierarchical
tension between and across languages and language groups has persisted. The desire
of many minority language speakers to make Hindi and English (which are bolstered by
the Hindutva nationalists and the professional elite respectively) subservient to the
mother tongue remains unfulfilled till date. On the other hand, India remains a uniquely
multilingual nation-state which provides the researcher with rich opportunities to critically
examine the socio-political genesis and impact of national language policies as enacted
by state authorities. The implementation of language policies in a multilingual India offers
a window into a complex linguistic ecology, highlighting apparent disparities of equality,
unequal access and utility (Bhattacharya, 2014). Mohanty (2017) states, “language as a
cultural capital is a critical link to education and access to social resources. In
multilingual societies, languages are associated with power and hierarchy; some
languages enable greater access to privileges and social opportunities and others lead
to deprivation and discrimination” (p. 262).
My own experiences in Canada were instrumental in helping me recognize the
links between language policies and the political, social and historically situated
inequities of region, race, class, power, ethnicity and nationality. Without a doubt,
language is a marker of identity and a determiner of who has access to political power,
economic resources and ideological control. Language planning in linguistically
heterogeneous societies like India is most often designed to preserve the strong foothold
of majority languages while relegating “other” languages to secondary status
6
(Khubchandani, 2008). The relationship between structures of power and multilingual
discourse practices, and the influence of this relationship on the implementation of
language policies, is a central theme of this study. Bhatia (2012) suggests that “natural
forces of networking and communication” impact multilingualism in India rather than
“externally imposed models and government planning” (p. 483). Tollefsen’s (1991)
definition of language planning and policy (LPP) is relevant, as it frames it in terms of
social practices influenced by identity, ideology, power, access to resources etc.:
Language planning-policy means the institutionalization of language as a basis for distinction among social groups. That is, language policy is one mechanism for locating language within social structures so that language determines who has access to political power and economic resources. Language policy is one mechanism by which dominant groups establish hegemony in language use (p. 16).
As an applied linguist, Tollefsen’s early work (1991) in language planning and
policy (LPP) situated the ongoing conflict between capitalist elites on one hand and the
populace on the other as a class struggle for control over political power and social,
cultural and economic resources. In such struggles, the position of the weaker class is
complicated as recognized by Bourdieu (1991) in Language and Symbolic Power the
subjugated, “recognize or tacitly acknowledge the legitimacy of power, or of the
hierarchical relations of power in which they are embedded; and hence they fail to see
that the hierarchy is, after all, an arbitrary social construction which serves the interests
of some groups more than others” (p.23). In her study of language and politics in India,
Sarangi (2009) rightly points out, “The language question should not be reduced simply
to the problem of language planning, policy and programmes, but should take into
account the ideological power of language(s) and its various forms of domination and
subordination” (p.2). I have endeavoured to keep this principle in the forefront throughout
this study.
In view of this power of language(s), it must be pointed out here that there has
been a paradigm shift in the depth and breadth of scholarship in LPP. The last four
decades have seen a growing commitment in societies around the world to various
forms of multilingualism (versus monolingualism) as an ideal for societies and for
individuals – moving from language as a problem to language as a resource (Baker,
2011; Ricento, 2006; Ruiz, 1988). Schools are a crucial part of this movement
(Blommaert et al, 2005; Cummins, 2000). For example, teaching “multilinguality” - a term
7
coined by Agnihotri (2014) – as a pedagogical practice “treats the multilinguality of each
child in the classroom as a resource and uses it for ongoing linguistic and cognitive
growth” (p. 365) because, “the language of every child is important, and there is a very
careful attempt to make sure that the multilinguality of every child becomes a part of the
pedagogical process” (Agnihotri, 2014, p. 365). Even while there is recognition that
“multilingualism is a world phenomenon” (Edwards, 2003, p. 3) what is also important to
note is the attitudes towards it both in education as a practice and within the general
public (Blommaert et al, 2005).
“The choice of language education policy is among the most critical and complex
issues facing modern society” (Spolsky, 1980, p. xiii). As a country India has 22 officially
recognized state (or regional) languages and two official national languages. A large
number of minority languages (indigenous, tribal etc.) remain without any recognition or
government support (Mohanty, 2019 b). National language policies and state polices
have been an important issue for policy makers, language planner and education
officials since before India’s Independence. This study seeks to bring an understanding
of the socio-political nature of language planning and policy in India from the time of
Independence to the current moment by looking at one state in the country.
Research Questions:
My thesis is a policy study of India’s Three Language Formula and the historical
antecedents that impact language planning and policy in the state of Punjab. My
research questions are positioned within India’s language planning and policy as it
impacts the public schooling systems in the northwestern region of India in the state of
Punjab. How do historically influenced socio-cultural and political implications of India’s
national language planning and policies, intersect with the power dynamics/relationships
within language practices, language ideologies and management practices in the state
of Punjab? Does India’s multilingual policy implementation respond to the larger
sociolinguistic reality of the state of Punjab and inequities inherent within society? Using
critical discourse analysis, I study policy texts to research how policy implementation
processes work to reproduce political ideologies of the state and how do these
processes respond to inequalities in the education systems of the state? How does the
historic structural ecology of language planning and policy in Punjab affect my findings?
8
The major issues examined in this study include the following:
1. Historical and political processes undertaken to develop India’s language
planning and polices post-Independence
2. How these major historical and contextual factors determined and influenced
policy planning objectives and future implementation
3. The planning and policy processes undertaken in the state of Punjab to
ensure language policy formulation, decision making and implementation
within a complicated and highly bureaucratic structure of education
administration
4. The impact of the national and state policies and planning implementation as
reflected in multilingual education directives developed by powerful state
policy actors that reflect political and social ideologies of the state in response
to national policies
The challenges present for me are how to make meaning of how complex
language planning and policy in a multilingual country like India which has an immense
population, complex language systems, with its multi-cultural nature and a highly
centralized political system can influence implementation of language polices in its
various states. To address this challenge, case studies are effective ways to clarify
connections between macro (federal) and micro (state) political entities, guided by
critical discourse analysis as a methodology and critical social theory as a theoretical
framework.
As well, it goes without saying that the effect of language policy on the quality of
education is critically important for any study on the topic. Benson (2019) suggests that,
“policymakers are paying more attention to the essential role of learners’ own languages
and ways of knowing in improving the quality of education for all” (p. 29). However, in
this study I do not investigate the pedagogical models of education in mother tongue and
multiple language education in Punjab in order to fully understand any gains or losses
through multilingual education. I do not provide data on the different linguistic outcomes
of public and private schools, although I did find information on the State Council of
Educational Research and Training’s (SCERT) efforts to provide resources to improve
9
quality education in Punjab. The Division of Educational Survey and Assessment
mandate is to: “lead and coordinate all national and state level surveys on learning
outcomes in the State” (SIECHD, 2018). As I undertook my research on language
planning and policy in Punjab, I did not find any research on schools run by linguistic
communities where minority languages are taught and could not ascertain whether the
Education Department gives these schools policy and planning support.
In India, education is a federal mandate which is enshrined within the Indian
Constitution as a fundamental right to children between the ages of 6-14. The National
Education Policy, 2019 (NEP 2019) draft is proposing that this right be extended to
secondary school children and early childhood education. Given this possibility, in
assessing the progress made by India in elementary education, a World Bank report
states that education is a powerful instrument to combat poverty and inequality while
enhancing India’s competitiveness in the global economy. In response, India has made a
concerted effort to develop national policies that are linked to country-wide economic
reforms. The highly centralized system works in this way for public education: “Central
funds are earmarked for particular sector or program. The Centre transfers money
through specific purpose grants (called the Centrally Sponsored Schemes (CSS)) for
schemes drawn up by the Centre which are to be implemented by the states” (Sankar,
2007, p. 2). While the Centre provides the larger policy guidelines through Schemes, the
states take on the responsibly to implement them within their own political ideologies that
are state sanctioned and provides the means for education to their citizens.
Language planning and policy has been a complex task historically and
especially in contemporary times as India has matured as a new nation post-
independence. The country has striven for national unity through language (as one
element) within claims that celebrate its linguistic and cultural diversity (Brass, 2004).
Within the funding model, on the one hand the national policy overlays Hindi and English
as mandatory languages (with allowable choice of hierarchy) for the states, and on the
other, states have the freedom to choose a third language (and sometimes fourth and
fifth languages) from a national Schedule of Languages (Schedule VIII) based on the
linguistic landscape of the region. The cost of implementing further minority (indigenous
or tribal) languages is untenable for most states and as such these desires remain
under-resourced and under-planned (Mohanty, 2019b). The National Education Policies
give lip service to the preservation and development of minority languages which have
10
no Constitutional guarantees. Multilingualism has been an accepted norm and part of
everyday life in India and within the education system, the formalization of language
policies post-independence has provided the states with functioning frameworks that
states like Punjab have further developed to meet their political and ideological ideals.
I undertook this study over a period of a year in Punjab by collecting data (texts)
on language policy directives (circulars) developed by Punjab School Board of Education
(PSEB) policy actors for implementation in local public schools, as they
related/responded to language policy frameworks of both the Centre and the State. The
corpus of PSEB policy daily circulars that I studied included 182 policies which were
developed by different policy departments in the Board offices. The directives (almost
exclusively written in the Punjabi language) were usually presented under the signature
of the Director General of School Education, or the Director of Public Instruction,
Elementary and Secondary Education or the Director of SCERT among other Divisional
heads. This data provided valuable texts for discourse analysis As well, I sought to
understand the historic and current national policy planning mechanisms that informed
and continue to inform language policy implementation in India and Punjab through a
textual analysis of historic policy frameworks. My research approach was to study
language policy texts and directives that support these policies within a social, political
context. I seek to show how ideologies influence language policy choices and the
consequent reproduction of these ideologies within the discourse. As part of this study, I
did not research how these policy directives were received on the ground and the levels
of compliance and any resistance. This extensive field work would make up part of any
future research for me.
Texts provide a primary source of data for my thesis allowing me to apply
existing theories to new data to be able to find new meaning in the language of the texts.
Decision making texts especially provide the opportunity to look at politically relevant
problems that are being developed, rectified or corrected. In the case of India’s language
planning and policy, policies of the nation influence policies of the state and some
diffusion is bound to occur in the transfer. India’s national language framework is
entrenched within the Three Language Formula which is complimentarily reflected in the
Punjab Languages Act 2008. I am interested in what if any liberties show up in the state
policy in Punjab. As an interest group, Punjab’s preferences with the national policy are
evident in the choice of languages that respond/reflect its particular linguistic landscape.
11
In a feedback response, is Punjab able to implement its language policy in a manner it
sees fit within the national framework? Policy is most certainly affected by public
discourse and by changing attitudes, as India comes out from under its colonial yolk as a
truly world economic power. I would say this era is stage two in the POLA policy
framework as India decides its future as a global economy.
My thesis is framed within an understanding of India’s language planning and
policy processes as a nation, and its applicability in the state of Punjab. In this manner, I
concentrate on the discourse within the text of policy directives issued by the Punjab
School Education Board (PSEB). The Punjabi language texts provide the data required
for critical analysis of political ideologies present in the text as a fulsome response to all
constituents in the public education system. My interest is in analyzing the placement of
language in certain parts of texts to be presented to the intended audience to show
intent of both power and authority and expected compliance. Extraction of specific
information to deduce the underlying dimensions of language use is useful for language
policy analysis.
I begin my thesis with the philosophical underpinnings that link language to
identity, drawing on different strands of thinking from the personal, to the historic and
into contemporary times. I argue that linguistic identity is critical to the understanding of
conflicts in lived realities of space and territoriality in the planning and policy arena.
Chapter two provides the contextual historic frames that provide reference for theoretical
underpinnings that link language planning and policy to social, cultural and political
power, as differentiated realities of both the nation-state and policy planning in Punjab.
There are many sociopolitical determining factors that interact with the fundamental
tension of social criticism in the framing processes of India’s LPP.
Chapter three places this study in its appropriate historical and societal context. I
look at how India promulgated a linguistically rich language planning and policy post-
Independence, which although hard fought for at the time of Independence proved to be
partly a continuation of the colonial mindset. Post-colonial India’s ruling class continued
to elevate English as a political and economically important language that even today
helps to define (and maintain) the role of intellectual and economic elites throughout the
country. At the same time, the politically charged agenda (of language rights) played a
critically important part in the nation-state design as Free India was newly carved up on
12
linguistic lines. I discuss the implications of this history for the current status of local
vernaculars within the official language policies of the Centre and the State.
In chapter four I present the methodological approach of this study and the
rationale for and interpretation of critical discourse analysis as the major methodological
orientation whereby the structural function of LPP is a form of social control. In all this I
am guided by my positionality – epistemologically and historically as a western scholar
(Canadian) in an eastern setting (Indian), albeit a setting that I was immersed in for
almost twenty of my formative years. The corpus of language policy directives (182
circulars in the Punjabi language) developed and issued by the PSEB policy managers
are the primary texts that I critically analyze for this study.
Chapter five presents my findings from Punjab of how language planning and
policy in that state has shaped language education implementation and how the policy is
enacted at the bureaucratic level. I rely on policy directive (texts) developed by policy
actors in Punjab and the study of language policy documents to address this study’s
specific research questions. Policy texts reveal how policy actors undertake a complex
and vigilant role in institutionalizing Punjabi language in the public system, supported
and bolstered by language policies that aim to influence the education of children in the
K-12 public-system. The policies provide tools to achieve linguistic goals in the face of
competing interests and the complex inequalities inherent in systems and society.
My thesis concludes in chapter six with a response to address the inequities
inherent in top down language planning and policy mechanisms of India. From my
findings it is evident that the individual, the community, and the nation all intersect in
language planning and policy, but the important issue is implementation in the face of
the social and economic inequities inherent in Indian society. The goal of my study was
to gain a deeper understanding of an Indian state’s response to national language
policies that impact public school education by locating the study in Punjab. I sought to
analyse the work of School Board administrators in their role as policy actors as they
implemented national and state policy directives for schools in the public education
system.
By examining language planning and policy in the Indian context and by focusing
on policy implementation process across the nation and state, this study seeks to
13
contribute to the conceptual knowledge of language planning and policy both from a
socio-political historical perspective and its current impact. This study is unique in that, it
ventures to shed light on the policy implementation discourse in the public policy arena.
14
Context and Theoretical Framework
2.1. Key foci and themes
The primary focus of my study is the northwestern state of Punjab in India, a
region that has had a rich and conflicting history both with the nation and with foreign
invaders since millennia. The history and contemporary situation of India’s language
policy frameworks are described in greater detail in Chapter 3, but an initial orientation is
called for here. Historically, Punjab comprised a rich alluvial plain watered by five rivers
and a diverse socio-political-religious-linguistic landscape (Panwahar et al, 2018). In
1947, at the time of Independence, the retreating British colonial rulers carved up India
on religious grounds, creating a new nation state of East and West Pakistan on its
eastern and western borders (see map below). As an old civilization, India was
confronted in 1947 with developing new ideas about what it meant to be a free nation, to
develop its citizen’s nationality and desired nationalism that as Anderson (1983)
suggests, require time to understand in order to fulfill the emotional legitimacy of such
‘imagined’ powerful concepts. Gellner (1983) suggests nationalism is a sociological
condition, as countries transitioned from agrarian states to industrial societies which
urbanized, modernized and grew labour markets that brought in economic growth. At
Independence, the conditions were ripe in India as a largely agrarian country, for the
growth of education and a kind of linguistic unification (or
homogenization/standardization) at the national level to slowly take root in the country.
As evidenced in Chapter 3, the elite found fecund ground to enable their own power and
privilege both culturally and linguistically as the ‘managed’ the planning processes.
When Punjab was split in two by the new international boundary, it made the
Punjabi language perhaps the greatest long-term geo-linguistic loss for India. Half of
Punjab’s land mass was now designated as Punjabi in West Pakistan, taking with it a
large majority of Punjabi speaking Muslims (see map below). Punjabi is the religious
and cultural language of Sikhs, who are a linguistic and religious minority in India,
making up roughly 2.9% of its population. The language issue has always been
politically charged in Punjab, which like most states in India is linguistically rich and
15
diverse. Within this diversity, at Independence, Muslim Punjabis (those who stayed in
India) opted for Urdu and Hindu Punjabis for Hindi as identity markers (Brass, 1974),
while many Punjabi speakers left India and became citizens of Pakistan, settling in West
Pakistan’s largest province of Punjab. However, in India’s East Punjab (now reduced to
a half of its original geographical region), Punjabi developed its position as the official
state language (although after great political wrangling), partly because of the high
concentration of Punjabi Sikhs, for whom Punjabi is both their mother tongue and the
language for religious instruction.
Religious systems in India have strong recognition as a “large cultural system”
(Anderson, 1983, p. 12) which were harnessed by those with political power as systems
that preceded the work of nationalism. Within the context of key events like India’s
independence and partition of Punjab, structural systems were developed by the
dominant groups with the authority to plan national policies and frameworks supporting
India’s goals of maintaining its rich multilingual orientation. It was an opportunity for the
powerful elite at the time to ensure the status quo of Hindi and English within language
policy frameworks as they developed.
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Figure 1. Map of India Pakistan partition 1947 Source: http://origins.osu.edu/milestones/december-2017-india-pakistan-partition
India’s Punjab region is thus unique, in that a minority religiously defined
linguistic community (Sikh/Punjabi) has a majority foothold in a small geographical
region, unmatched in the same manner anywhere else in the country (Virdee, 2018).
While this unusual situation has allowed Punjabi to be retained and even flourish, the
pressures of Hindi as a national official language and the appeal of global English are
increasingly impacting the continued wellbeing of the region’s majority language. It is
noteworthy that notwithstanding Punjab’s traditionally rich and robust economy, India’s
nationalist project at partition had sought to subsume the language within Hindi’s
superior official standing, producing a strong response by Punjabis for Punjabi as their
official language. Later chapters, in particular Chapter 5, will look at these issues in more
detail.
Understanding the language ecology of Punjab requires an analysis of the
broader linguistic, social and political context in India. When dealing with a state official
language and two co-official nationally sanctioned languages, one is also dealing with
the intersecting complex Indian class and caste based social stratifications and
17
hierarchies. These kinds of on-the-ground hierarchies and inequities have historically
presented and continue to present a real challenge to language policy, planning and
implementation. Supporting this view, Ramanathan (2007), in his study on the dominant
status of English in India, sums it up by stating that we must “re-think, re-envision and
re-enact” (p. 99) local linguistic realities and the language polices associated with them.
My study seeks to contribute to this larger effort.
One of the earliest studies of language planning and policy implementation with
respect to Punjabi, Pandit’s (1978) study of Punjabi use in Delhi schools, found that
attitudes towards the language by both parents and students supported mother tongue
acquisition in the classroom, only after English had been assured its favoured position.
This illustrates how persistent and ubiquitous the pressures in favour of English have
been, and similar attitudes can be found in Punjab today. Indeed, Annamalai (2013) in
his study of “medium of instruction” (MOI) in India — i.e. the choice of language in which
school subjects are taught — reports that English is the most frequently chosen MOI (if
choice is an option) and is the only language taught in all states, further solidifying its
dominant status as a “hypercentral language” (De Swaan, 2001) in Indian society.
This plays itself out in Punjab society in all kinds of ways. For example, the elite
English-speaking minority (who are numerically over-represented in English MOI private
schools) in Punjab dominate those whose MOI is Punjabi by maintaining a stranglehold
on job opportunities in government jobs, civil service, army elite, international business,
etc. which demand a strong command of English (Brass, 2004). The intermediate elite
aspire to these life chances as well, in turn increasing the demand for English language
skills, thus ensuring even lesser value placed on the mother tongue for future
employment (Block, 2018). Further, public schools with Punjabi MOI are usually
attended by children from lower to middle socio-economic status families, leaving them
to fill jobs without the same financial benefit as those listed above and not requiring the
same level of English fluency.
Building on such observations in many different contexts, La Dousa (2015),
Annamalai (2013) and Ramanthan (2005) have suggested that class divisions on
linguistic lines are directly correlated with different access to political, social, economic
and cultural resources in India. In particular, lack of access to English language in
schools directly affects life chances for its citizens. This is indeed a worldwide
18
phenomenon, whereby middle-and upper-class children have greater access to English
and as a result greater access to resources (Ricento, 2018, Relano-Pastor, 2018,
Ricento, 2015). In India, the English-speaking elite fill the highest posts in the Indian
Administrative Service, corporate industry and international institutions doing business in
India (Brass, 2004). As a result, language policy makers have been questioning whether
it is beneficial for the mother tongue as the MOI to be stretched over the full educational
experience of students with limited/late access to English (Khubchandani, 1997, p. 183).
In the complex milieu of India’s linguistically diverse schools, an important
consideration for language policy planners is how, after being schooled in the mother
tongue as MOI, students are suddenly confronted with Indian norms upon entrance to
post-secondary education, where the language of the entrance qualifier exam and the
MOI of subsequent instruction is English. Unfortunately, India’s language policy
frameworks are silent on this educational transition and limited English-language
learning in regional-language MOI schools continues to foster uneven access to higher
education and future gainful employment (Bhattacharya, 2014). According to Annamalai
(2012), centralized development related economic policies are demanding the English
language training of future Indian technocrats and bureaucrats in science and
technology, entrenching “a fundamental division between those who attend higher
education and those who leave school in elementary or secondary levels” (p. 193).
Sheth (2009), on the other hand, argues that “making knowledge of English a
blanket requirement for entry into higher education is not a sustainable policy” (p. 294).
This inequity remains a critical issue for language policy planners.
Along with the powerful influence of English, the national tongue (Hindi) has a
mandated strong presence in Punjab. Political history shows that Punjabi speaking Sikhs
and Hindi speaking Hindus have been at odds with each other more often on linguistic
rather than ideological grounds (Khubchandani, 1997). Brass concurs: “The primary
symbols of Sikh and Hindu competition have been linguistic. Increasingly in the Punjab,
the competition for the allegiance of particular groups has been in the arena of linguistic
conflict and the politically important marks of groups identification have been language
and script” (Brass, 1974, p. 286). The historic antecedents of this situation are explained
in chapter five, but, in brief, they stem from the carving out of linguistic states envisioned
by the Congress building up to Independence in 1947, and pursued under a succession
19
of central governments in the 1950s and 60s. A language policy initiative of particular
importance was the Sachar Formula, proposed in 1949 by the central government to
address the contentious linguistic needs within Punjab. The Formula specified the
method of selecting the medium of instruction in schools:
Hindi in the Hindi speaking areas and Punjabi in the Punjabi speaking areas, as demarcated, were to be the media of instruction in their regions, but the parents or guardians of the pupils were to have the right to opt for Hindi in the Punjabi region or Punjabi in the Hindi region provided there was sufficient demand for such options in the class or school (Brass, 1974, p. 339).
These principles were incorporated in the bilingually oriented Punjabi Official Language
Act of 1967 and continue to be relevant to the linguistic situation today. It is here that my
work begins to critically engage with language planning and policy in a way that
elucidates the historical framing of language policy in India by a dominant political elite
and its continuing influence in education today.
2.2. Why critical theory?
As a reflexive researcher, and in an effort to analyze language planning and
policy and its processes in relation to society, I apply critical social theory to the study of
historical dominance of certain discourses, texts and voices in the field. As McCarty
(2013) suggests we must, “recognize the planning-policy-making process and the field of
LPP itself as ideological and discursive, reflecting and (re)producing class, race,
language and power” (p.40). To fulfill critical theory’s goal of being explanatory, practical
and normative (Bohman, 2016), my investigation in LPP explores the political struggles
that make up the development and implementation of policy and the clues offered in
policy texts to the contested spaces/contexts between dominant language(s) in India. My
research experiences are in keeping with the suggestion by Codó (2018) is that, as
“legitimators of language and regulators of access to it, contemporary institutions are
spaces defined by discursive tensions, where old and new policies, practices and
discourses coexist, compete and interlock in unexpected ways” (p.480). As a linguist,
Codó’s work on multilingual policy practice in Spain with a critical perspective on
language speaks to the issues of inequities in the process of policy implementation. So
too, do I look at policy’s that impact and influence inequities in Indian society.
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Traditionally, LPP has almost always served the interests of a particular set of
elites (the educated and dominant classes), and I submit that the development of the
LPP tradition has entailed a kind of wilful blindness towards its embedded political
ideology. However, LPP is also situated in an ever-shifting world where critical theorists
imagine alternatives to what we currently endure. In this chapter, I suggest that a
rethinking of LPP that centralizes the epistemological perspectives and social realities of
learners has the potential to work towards the possibility of social transformation (Codó,
2018). As Codó (2018) suggests, by applying a multidisciplinary historical structural
approach to conduct critical research of education policy with the required depth of
analysis, I seek to advance the emancipatory goals of knowledge based on action in
response to the influence and hegemony of inequitable societal conditions in everyday
life.
Within the tradition of liberal education, education is generally considered to be a
public good, based on moral and ethical considerations, “in the sense that individuals
receive personal benefits and growth from it, and it is part of the public good as schools
are places in which the concept is developed in students, which benefits all society”
(Broom, 2011, p. 142). However, this ideal does not take into account that societies are
never free of conflict, and hence public goods are open to contestation. To explore the
depth of the conflict between society and the individual, critical theorist Habermas (1996)
claims that general interests have to be critically examined. This critical examination
includes understanding the lived experiences of diverse stakeholders so as to develop
the possibility of a truly pluralist response. Further, a complex examination of these
interests also exposes the biases inherent in the claim that certain interests in any
society are universal or that resistance to those interests is unrelated to the political and
economic life processes of society. In one influential formulation, critical theory does not
argue that “all referents for meaning and representation have disappeared; rather, it
seeks to make them problematic and in doing so re-inscribes and rewrites the
boundaries for establishing the condition for the production of meaning and subjectivity”
(Aronowitz & Giroux, 1999, p. 227).
In analyzing the function of such criticism in education, Leonardo’s (2004) work
on critical social thought in education and structural relations of power that need to be
dismantled in order to put forward knowledge’s emancipatory function, addresses
transformative knowledge by stating,
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Although different forms of critical social theory may debate the nature of oppression—such as economics in Marxism, discourse in Foucauldian analysis, gender in feminism, or race in critical race theory—they converge on the idea that social inequality is stubborn, the persistence of which subverts students’ full learning potential. Thus, critical social theorists are not in the habit of justifying that oppression exists, but prefer describing the form it takes. Instead, their intellectual energy is spent on critiquing notions of power and privilege, whether in the form of cash or culture (p.13).
In keeping with the stubborn nature of inequality, I suggest that this stubbornness
is also on full view when we examine how the state manages society’s languages. In
general, language policy frameworks can create new meanings between people, with
people and for people (through form and content). Rather than constituting their own
autonomous realm concerned only with “language”, language policy documents
represent interventions in the social order of struggle and oppression.
Thus, the philosophy of critical theory is a useful tool to constitute the lived
linguistic experiences of people as a central part of their struggle for emancipation from
hegemonic rules and practices. LPP has often been a means for those with power,
privilege and status (the dominant groups) to assert themselves over those who are
within their grip (the marginalized). In such cases, the marginalized groups remain
outside the boundaries of knowledge-making. Tollefsen and Pérez-Milans, (2018) write
about the critical turn in the 1990’s, “which examined the processes by which language
is associated with power and inequality: (p. 7). Using a critical approach to LPP, my
hope is to understand how the needs of marginalized groups could transform the
language policy arena if their experiences, needs and perspectives were made explicit
and were contrasted against those of the dominant groups. Spolsky (2012) states that
while ministries of education formulate and develop plans and policies, community
concerns are not truly evident in their processes and inequities are not dismantled.
Everyday contexts do not always align with the broader consequences of language
policies in the communities for whom (we believe) the planning should have occurred for
in the first place.
The politics of equality situate knowledge within conflicts that are social and
historical in nature, rather than simply textual or semiotic contradictions. However, the
question remains: who has the power to shift ideologies and move the status quo? I
suggest that true shift occurs when those on the sidelines erase the margins on their
own terms, presenting their own needs, not to be accommodated, but to be self-defined
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– e.g. language needs being met (in this case) both for identity and linguistic
preservation.
2.3. The historical roots of language planning
Before embarking on a critique of LPP as a general endeavour, and more
specifically of its role in India and Punjab, it will be helpful to review its historical and
ideological origins.
The term “language planning” was coined by Einar Haugen (1959) in reference to
Norway’s response to its divergent languages and the “consequent mutual
incomprehensibility” (p.293). He suggested that language planning was a necessary
process, a tool towards a standard national language policy in a country in the interests
of national unity and efficient communication. In this original formulation, Haugen defined
language planning as “the activity of preparing a normative orthography, grammar, and
dictionary for the guidance of writers and speakers in a non-homogeneous speech
community” (p. 8). In his earlier works (Haugen, 1953), had suggested that bilingualism
was understood as an alteration between two discrete codes in meaningful utterances,
but my experiences on the ground are contrary to this idea. Many languages in my social
reality existed as an intertwined mesh that allowed for a constant flow, borrowing and
intersection, not alternating as Haugen suggests, as we code switched with ease. The
standardization of languages involving the official choices (politically mandated) about
the corpus of a language (its prestige, its unifying presence, stability etc.), went against
the grain of everyday (polyglossia) occurrences in India (Schiffman, 1998, 2011).
Language planning was thus seen from the outset as something of a specialized
discipline that must respond to more general linguistic, political and social goals. Early in
the LPP discussions, Rubin and Jernudd (1971) clearly stated that language planning
occurs when “changes in the systems of language code or speaking or both are planned
by organizations that are established for such purposes or given a mandate to fulfill such
purposes” (p. xvi). Fettes (1997) suggests that the features of language consistent with
its standardized and widespread use “are not natural characteristics for any language:
they are the result of the more-or-less conscious influence of various powerful groups
and institutions around sociolinguistic norms. In its most conscious, explicit and
rationalized form, such influence is known as language planning” (p.13). Language
23
policy, on the other hand, is the implementation of planning by those who hold positions
of power, predicating the need for mutual relationships in this context. Importantly, as
Canagarajah (2006) points out, language policy is intertwined with language
relationships and may evolve in unpredictable ways, since ideologies “are not
necessarily rational, pragmatic or objective” (p.154). Herein lies the crux of the difficulty
in prescribing a normative grammar, orthography and dictionary as a means for
language planning in multilingual societies like India. There is a clear distinction between
the related concepts of language planning as a macro sociopolitical activity which occurs
at the national and governmental level and language policy “which works at an
institutional level, testing …ideas against actual practice to promote the development of
better…language planning models” (Fettes, 1997, p. 14).
Traditionally, it has been viewed that there are two kinds of language planning
and policy: corpus planning where a national standard is developed, and status planning
where the standard is positioned for use versus other language varieties (a type of
influence) (Cooper, 1989; Kloss, 1969). However, Cooper (1989) took the concept a bit
further and introduced acquisition planning as the “organized efforts to promote the
learning of a language” (p.157). He argued that when language use is being directed
towards increasing the numbers of readers, writers, listeners, or speakers (i.e. society),
this increased contact influences complex change in function and form. He suggested
that linguistic function, form and acquisition are closely related, and that the third focus
requires equal attention.
According to Fettes (1997), an integrated approach to deliberate influence on
language status and use would include all of these domains: language standardization
through lexical expansion and standardized orthography (corpus); legal, political and
cultural measures to manage attitudes towards the language (status); and literacy and
language education (acquisition):
Language planning….must be linked to the critical evaluation of language policy; the former providing standards of rationality and effectiveness, the latter testing these ideas against actual practice in order to promote the development of better…language planning models. Such a field would be better described as ‘language policy and planning’, LPP (p, 14).
Cooper sums up this unified understanding of LPP in the following general
question: “What actors attempt to influence what behaviours of which people and for
24
what ends under what conditions by what means through what decision-making process
with what effect” (Cooper, 1989, p.89). While not itself framed in the context of critical
theory, this question nonetheless provides a useful framework for the present study. It
presupposes, however, a realistic understanding of both the social organization of
language (the field of the applied sociology of language according to Fishman (1971))
and of the political processes and institutions of society. Thus, questions of history,
culture and ideology are inevitably included in the broad domain of LPP.
Cooper (1989) suggests that behavior towards a language and its usage is
influenced to a great extent by attitudes towards the language. In India’s case, elitist
English language supremacy attitudes inherited from the British Raj persisted after
independence in 1947 and continue to do so even today. A much-quoted expression of
these attitudes can be found in Thomas Macaulay’s infamous and linguistically
assimilationist rhetorical “Minute on Education” (1835) which was to have a lasting
negative impact on the country for over a hundred years. He wrote the Minute as a
response to the Governor-General of India William Bentnick’s resolve to formulate an
education policy that would promote European literature and language amongst the
natives of India (Evans, 2010). Macaulay penned the Minute with contempt for Indian
languages, and even for the classical languages such as Arabic and Sanskrit, writing:
The claims of our own language it is hardly necessary to recapitulate. It stands pre-eminent even among the languages of the West. It abounds with works of imagination not inferior to the noblest which Greece had bequeathed to us, - with models of every species of eloquence…Whoever knows that language has ready access to all the vast intellectual wealth which all the wisest nations of the earth have created and hoarded in the course of ninety generations…The question now before us is simply whether when it is in our power to teach this language, we shall teach languages in which, by universal confession, there are no books in any subject which deserve to be compared to our own (Missouri State University, n.d.).
The Minute, and the English Education Act that followed it, staked out a significant policy
position by dictating that “the teaching of English would henceforth be the principal
objective of public education” (Evans, 2010, p.273). The embedded Anglo-centric, elitist
and hierarchical language ideology greatly impacted vernacular education in British
India.
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Along with social and elite attitudes towards particular languages like English, an
important role is played by attitudes towards multilingualism in general, frequently
intermixed with attitudes towards religion, education, economic success and so on.
Cooper (1989) aptly suggests that, “Since education is, from the state’s point of view, a
primary means of social control, and from the individual’s or family’s point of view, a
means for social mobility, it is scarcely surprising that the language of instruction should
be an important political issue” (p.112). The inclusion of particular languages as a
subject in the curriculum is another common policy issue in multilingual states (as it is in
India where three and up to four and five languages are the norm). Language attitudes
also have an effect on learning proficiency, whether the language is strictly taught for
literary or scholarly purposes (like Sanskrit, Latin or Greek) or more ideological or
practical reasons. (Cooper, 1989). In general, as Fishman (1991) states, “Without
considerable and repeated societal reinforcement schools cannot successfully teach
either first or second languages and, furthermore, where such reinforcement is plentifully
available, languages are acquired and retained even if they are not taught on schools”
(p. 371). Thus, much depends on linguistic attitudes and practices among the general
population. The most well-intentioned multilingual education policy cannot succeed if
there is no social basis for the continued use and development of multiple languages for
a variety of purposes. Spolsky (2004) states that language policy must include all of the
“language practices, beliefs and management of a community or polity” (p. 9). In
support of this, Menken and Garcia (2010, 2017) in their study of language education
policies note, a dynamism must exist in the development of multilingual policies, but in
fact the top down nature of planning and policy has traditionally precluded the
understanding and incorporation of human agency and the chance for local creativity in
its processes (Kaplan & Baldauf, 1997; Canagarajah, 2005; Spolsky, 2004; Ricento,
2006). Critical approaches to how the underestimating (and perhaps undermining) of the
depth of human agency point to the multidimensional nature of policymaking which has
the potential to develop policies that would benefit from such an undertaking
(Canagarajah, 2005; Ramanathan, 2005; Hornberger & Johnson, 2007).
In the case of India, Mohanty (2019), Khubchandani (1978) and Pattanayak
(1984) have all pointed out that normative (and fully functional) multilingualism has been
maintained for generations. Social contact allows for the maintenance of different
linguistic interrelationships in an environment that is a fertile site for multi-language
26
acquisition, even while different forces are at play that affect language use. The social
ecology of any language is important in order that it may thrive (formally and informally)
even as it constantly re-adjusts to its social environment and builds its connectivity with
other languages in its network (Mühlhäusler, 2000). The country’s linguistic, cultural,
ethnic and socio-economic diversity positions the kind of power languages have within
religion, administration, higher education and politics. Indian sociolinguist Annamalai
(2005) claims that, “when multilingualism is taken as the norm, the functional (or
ecological) relationship between languages in a multilingual network (or linguistic
ecology) defines the nature of each language in the network” (page 111).
Writing is an especially important dimension of such networks or ecologies.
Graphization (development of writing systems), standardization (defining correct
language) and modernization (new terms for new concepts) are all key aspects of
corpus planning (Fettes, 1997). While writing systems have occupied many linguists for
many centuries all over the world, modern language planning must still take into account
technical and sociolinguistic considerations, dialectical variations, subjugated language
forms, cultural innovations, and homogenizing pressures. All of this is affected by social
and political development. As Cooper (1989) suggests, “Regional and national language
forms sometimes develop from a common linguistic ancestor. Just as standardization in
measurement usually proceeds from the center to the periphery, so the standardization
of language typically radiates outward from the metropolitan centers of power” (p. 132-
133).
These are some of the complex, and problematic, dimensions of the language
planning tradition that forms part of the backdrop to this study. It is important to note that
social forces play a vitally important role and influence in the negotiation of language
planning and policy, but historic traditions must be questioned and resisted if the status
quo asserts and embeds itself continuously in the processes.
2.4. Critical Theory and LPP
All linguistic interaction is shaped by power differences of varying kinds, and no part of linguistic action escapes its effects.
Kress, 2001, p. 35
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Critical theory helps clarify the gap between what individuals know to be the
case, in the context of their lives and situations, and what dominant (hegemonic) shared
knowledge claims to be the case, in the context of the culture and its institutions. It is the
fact that these things do not wholly align that makes critical theory necessary. By
applying critical theory to language planning and policy, I hope to provide a way to
question theories and knowledge, by examining that which is in the “centre” so as to
understand the margins and the periphery. This application is one that allows for
historically silenced or marginalized groups (such as women, minorities, oppressed
classes, linguistic and cultural groups, etc.) to be recognized.
As Fettes notes in his general overview of language planning and education
(1997), many taken-for-granted assumptions of language planning clearly favour groups
whose languages already hold or mediate power. For example, languages of instruction
are “expected to be highly standardized (so that many different schools can use the
same curricular and human resources) and both prestigious and widely used (so that
education promotes economic mobility and inter-group communication)” (p. 13). All
members of a given national population do not have equal access to these forms of
language. This implies that in LPP there is a continuous tension of inequality between
the power and politics of dominant groups and individuals who continue to preserve their
own privilege and mask it as service.
Block (2018), in his research on inequality and class as endemic to capitalism,
concurs and suggests that, “language planning and management practices taking place
in society, must have at its core a careful and in-depth consideration of these political
phenomena” (p. 584). This kind of scholarship however, is not simply transmitting the
ideas of difference; it is also helping to create a political discourse of difference. In
critical theory, “knowledge and interest no longer diverge but coincide” (Bubner, 2004, p.
51) and in the critical turn in the study of LPP in the 1990’s, alternate definitions
associated with power and inequality abandoned the notions of permanence and
neutrality (Tollefson & Pérez-Milans, 2018). This is a powerful concept of a fields of
competing knowledges where no one knowledge has power over the others; rather they
might meet, recognize each other’s value and coexist with true acceptance.
Blake and Masschelein (2006) point out that, “the point of critical theory is not
that it envisages a “positive utopia” but that it is informed by a sharpened experience of
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the actual and intolerable injustice of the world as it currently exists” (p. 55). It is
imperative that criticalness does not translate into pessimism where everything looks
bleak and dark for the marginalized. It is therefore hopeful when Mohanty (1994)
suggests that, “…new analytical spaces… make possible thinking of knowledge as
praxis, of knowledge as embodying the very seeds of transformation and change” (p.
148). In these analytical spaces not only is critical knowledge constructed, knowledge
itself is critiqued. These spaces are frequently seen in feminist studies, cultural studies,
anti-racist education, multicultural education and ethnic studies that are transgressing
into areas that are on the fringes. These spaces allow us as LPP researchers to,
“examine contexts from a multitude of angles on the way towards identifying the lack of
alignment between planning and implementation” (Block., 2018, p. 582) while at the
same time reconsidering how each area can be better developed.
Dominant hegemonic paradigms of language planning and policy can be
alternatively framed within dominant epistemological frameworks by recognizing different
ways of knowing and then going further to embrace the oppositional view. This is difficult
work, because hegemonic ideology functions to legitimize existing practices in largely
unconscious ways. The foundation of respect, connectedness, and understanding of
local contexts all play a part in critically examining policy positions. As Van Mensel
(2016) suggests, “in order to fully grasp the impact of language policies, a balance
between structure and agency is needed…, as the power of language policy agents is
indeed contingent upon societal factors of a structural nature” (p.12). This kind of deep
critical engagement allows the possibility of exploration beyond the often-illusory sense
of language rights. Within this emancipatory framework, the desire is for minority
languages not to be merely tolerated in educational institutions and systems; rather, the
hope is that they will become fully embedded within the various schooling contexts:
political, social, psychological and educational (Mohanty & Minati, 2007; Skutnabb-
Kangas, 2000; Mohanty, 2000).
2.5. Critical theory and LPP in the Indian Context
Schiffman expresses a key insight with respect to language policy in India: “In
India, language is tied up with religion, it is affiliated with caste and social structure, it
differs from region to region, group to group, and cannot be understood without
reference to the long-standing history of the region” (Schiffman, 1996, p. 151). Yet any
29
approach to language policy that recognizes social stratification and its relationship to
power is bound to be complex. Not only do “individual attributes” need to be seen as
indicators of class differentials (Wright, 2016), but any serious discussion of class
inequality must take into account other well-established relational dimensions of identity:
race, ethnicity, gender and nationality.
Planning an archaic British language policy, policymakers had remained
arrogantly dismissive on all of these issues, in part by marginalizing uniquely Indian
experiences and knowledge. In the 18th and 19th centuries, English language had taken
centre stage in all administrative and trade dealings across the vast and diverse country,
alienating almost 80% of the population in one fell stroke. The vernacular was tolerated
as the language of education in religious schools, and the British established English
medium schools of good repute only for the Indian elite whom they educated to meet
their own imperialist objectives, demands and desires (Brass, 2004). Evans (2002) in his
study on colonial language policy states,
To encourage the study and use of English, Grant urged the authorities to introduce English as the language of government and (to meet the demand which would inevitably arise from this change) to establish free schools providing instruction in the language. Grant’s belief that the introduction of the ‘language of the conquerors’ would be ‘an obvious means of assimilating the conquered people to them’ espoused a vision of Britain’s imperial mission which was diametrically opposed to the prevailing policy of reconciliation, and may be regarded as an early manifestation of the shift in British attitudes towards India, from interest and appreciation to criticism and disdain, which was to build in momentum in the early decades of the 19th century (p. 264).
By the turn of the century the deleterious consequences of the spread of English education in India were becoming increasingly apparent. From an educational perspective, the most serious effects of British language policies and practices were the excessive emphasis on English in the schools, the neglect of the vernacular languages as subjects and instructional media, and the unrealistically early introduction of English as a teaching medium (p. 277).
As described in Chapter 3 this landscape informed the national debates and mobilization
that led up to and followed Independence in 1947. Political leaders and policy makers
knew that lethargy towards Indian languages would need to be combated through praxis
of action, reflection and action, if language policy was to be formulated on behalf of and
from the standpoint of the diverse population and especially the disadvantaged. Once
30
the British had been pushed out of India, leaving it to its own devices almost overnight,
the opportunity arose for construction of a particularly Indian “imagined possibility”
involving real personal agency by the politicians. (Brass, 1994; Das Gupta, 2003; Brass,
2005). “The leading ideas of the nationalist elite at Independence can be summarized
under these headings: sovereignty, unity, order, a strong state, secularism, democracy
and parliamentarism, economic self-sufficiency, and the need for social and economic
reform” (Brass, 1994, p. 10).
In this diverse milieu, to be able to contribute to a new liberation, the people of
India had to find their authentic selves as they grappled with the new found democratic
responsibilities. Both the dominant strata of society (those in power) and the minority
groups (the rest) had an opportunity to show solidarity (in a hope) to understand each
other’s position relative to themselves. The debates over national identity leading up to
Independence had taken place primarily in (educated) English and Hindi, leaving the
masses once again relegated to the fringes with the prospects of being forced to accept
a new kind of status quo, not so different from the old. In this relationship, word and
thought were intricately linked and dependent upon each other, forcing an exploration of
lived experiences (including linguistic) of each other by objectively examining them, as,
“systemic interactions of social actors situated in relation to each other” (Wright, 2016, p.
33). At stake is a refiguring of the map that situates the former centre and margin,
oppressor and oppressed, within a context larger than these binary oppositions.
The post-colonial goal of a newly emancipated India was to free language,
action, thought from exploitation and or hierarchy through communicative action and for
its people never to be ruled again (Brass, 1994). This type of discourse consistently
argued against the lingua-centric, patriarchally singular moral and theoretical
assumptions that had permeated language policy in the Raj. However, language
differences were bound up with class differences that were starkly evident, practiced and
unfortunately enforced in society. Even when new policies were created, there was a
real and undeniable risk that the marginalized other would get situated in comparison to
the dominant self, in a country that had been ruled and governed by a foreign
domineering power for three hundred years. Thus, in order to unite India, the collective
“other” needed to be understood through moral, philosophical and ethical reasoning not
as the other but as the self– a mammoth task not for the faint of heart.
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In their search for alternatives to the imperialist traditions of Great Britain and
other Western powers, the leaders of a newly liberated India consulted with the Soviet
Union in developing their language policy. Schiffman (1996) in his study on linguistic
cultures and language policy, suggests that this was a grave misstep:
The biggest mistake of post-independence language policy in India was not that the planners sought a policy that would remove English and better suit Indian circumstances, but that they chose another foreign model for their language policy, one that on the surface seemed egalitarian and multilingual but was otherwise ill-equipped for Indian circumstances. In addition, they ignored the tremendous power of Indian linguistic culture and the built-in attitudes and assumptions about language, in particular the deep-rooted propensity toward diglossia (Schiffman, 1996, p. 165).
Ferguson’s important concept of diglossia (1959) as two language varieties existing side
by side everywhere (situationally) in the community was expanded by Fishman (1967) to
include functionally differentiated languages where both bilingualism and diglossia could
apply. But what of countries like India where functional heterogeneity with complex
polyglossia is more the norm than not and speaker’s attitudes and feelings towards the
various varieties and the high-low binary of diglossia too limiting to imagine (Mohanty,
2019a)? Khubchandani (1985) suggested early on that difficulties of dichotomy and code
stability are apparent in India due to the “fluidity” of codes calling for a pluralistic view of
diglossia. He gives an example between speakers of Hindi and Punjabi, “where the use
of relatively unmodified, unstable, intermediate forms of the language provide relief to
the communicative tensions arising in the diglossia situation” (p. 202), and “many of
these speech communities demonstrate the magnitude of functional heterogeneity in
their verbal repertoires, characterized by a certain amount of fluidity in their identities
depending upon the relevance of the circumstances and the setting” (p. 203). However,
there are also great divides in the country due to linguistic dominance, difficult
relationships between languages that have traditional hierarchies built into them,
widespread and institutionalized discrimination and marginalization, all of which has
been a great loss to the diversity within many domains (Mohanty, 2019b). Schiffman
(1997, 2011) suggests that literate (prestigious) and oral varieties (less valued) of a
language(s) co-exist amicably for different purposes (long developed polyglossia as is
the case in India) as a case of diglossia (as distinguished from bilingualism). But Garcia
(2009) questions the concept of diglossia where two languages have different uses and
functions, because as she states, “In reality, ethnolinguistic groups do not have strict
32
divisions between their languages, and there is much overlap” (p. 78) and “Given the
changing ways in which languages now function and in which people translanguage,
complete compartmentalization between languages of instruction may not always be
appropriate (p.79).
In a broader view, we can see the fundamental tension here as being that
between policies designed by the elites with an overall grand scheme in mind, and
policies grounded in vernacular needs and values. In India’s polyglossia it became
quickly obvious and clear that certain people’s languages, history, voice and power were
still being relegated to the margins or excluded from the language policies being
developed. Post-Independence, the political machine re-inscribed old relations of power
within new structural formations, as we shall see in Chapter 3. The important theoretical
question to ask here is, how could this happen?
First of all, the “high command” of Congress leaders (Brass, 2004, p.9), to whom
the receding British had handed over the reins of power, constituted a powerful
nationalist elite whose members were used to some power and privilege even under the
British Raj. Perhaps it was too much to expect them to suddenly widen the sphere of
social relations and practice; this would have entailed the discovery and recovery of
previously ignored or omitted linguistic experiences, histories and knowledges, on the
part of those on the extreme edges of the Raj’s hierarchal continuum. Instead, just as
happened under the foreign rulers, the Indian intelligentsia (trained in western ontology
and ideologically amenable to colonialism’s many idiosyncrasies) undertook to develop
language policy frameworks behind closed doors, with little or no input from those in the
margins.
Secondly, the silenced voices of India’s linguistic landscape were not
encouraged to reflect on the condition of their lives, which could have forced a change in
perceptions and assumptions and helped them come to a new understanding of their
position, thereby transforming the world around them. Over the ensuing 70 years,
feminists, critical pedagogues, minority educators and anti-racist practitioners have all
espoused questioning the relationship between power, difference, struggle, identity,
politics and the narrative of class, language, race and gender. If such perspectives had
been available to the political actors in India’s independence – if they had realized the
importance of critically positioned understanding in working for an inclusive democratic
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society – linguistically this would have been powerful for minority language speakers.
Attending to the specificity of difference (e.g., language, class/caste, etc.) while at the
same time addressing the common themes of diverse others in the Indian context would
have most certainly created a new space.
This implies that, thirdly, at the time of language policy planning in the early
1950s and 1960s, Indian planners should have seen schools as instructional sites where
the ability to transform society within the social and cultural milieu was very much
possible. Their role should have been to ensure that curriculum for schools not just
perpetuate dominant discourses, and not specifically exclude others and in the process
insult and disconfirm the histories, experiences and traditions of the other. Language
policy needed to be situated not in the dominant discourses (as it became), but in the
lived experiences of students and within their own reflection of the world. Mohanty
(1994) points out, “after all, critical education concerns the production of subjectivities in
relation to discourses of knowledge and power” (p. 155). This production should have
been fought for by State policy actors who as critical pedagogues clearly should have
tried to understand the philosophy that sought to transform linguistic, social, political and
cultural knowledge for the linguistic minority speaker and in so doing society at large.
Unfortunately, however, at the time when the new policy discourse was being
formed, the contempt the imperial masters felt for India’s languages and “dialects” had
left a distasteful feeling in the mind of the average person, regardless that languages
had also been hierarchically placed since time immemorial in the Indian context English
(in the orientalist image) had become a mark of status for the elite of India, allowing the
British to keep the country economically, socially and culturally divided between those
that had power (through the language) and those that did not. “These measures altered
the universe of communicative and cultural practices on the subcontinent, and
introduced crucial hierarchical and ideological divisions between the ‘newly-educated’
and ‘illiterate’, ‘English-knowing’ and ‘vernacular speaking’ sections of native society”
(Naregal, 2001, p. 4). A consequence was the enshrinement of English by policy
planners as an official language, in addition to Hindi being forced upon everyone in such
a linguistically diverse country with many historically situated literary languages. These
became major components of the post-independence linguistic legacy of the ruling
Indian Congress party (see Chapter 4).
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2.6. Critical theory and LPP in the local context
As a richly multiethnic mosaic, India’s post-Independence language policy,
rationalized as “politically and ethnically neutral” (Tollefson & Tsui, 2018, p. 271), was in
direct conflict with its great traditions and many languages. However, while English was
supported by post-colonial hierarchies and ideologies, and the official language (Hindi)
was supported by a nation-state agenda, according to Khubchandani (1978) and
Pattanayak (1984), the grass-roots level of multilingual communication and interaction
by Indian nationals remained open and unimpaired. The central question with which this
thesis in concerned is how micro-level socio-historical processes and macro-level
dynamics of power structures have affected the linguistic landscape of India in its
regions, in particular in the state of Punjab.
In Spolsky’s (2008) writings on educational linguistics, he suggests that the
emphasis on community agency is critical to the success of language planning and
implementation. In a similar vein, Ruiz earlier recommended that language planning
efforts begin with the assumption that language is a resource to be “managed,
developed and conserved” and that the planners, “regard language minority
communities as important sources of expertise” (1984, p. 28). Yet this long-standing
theme in language planning work is often ignored in favour of more centralized and elite-
driven policies. The situation in Punjab displays a complex mix of these orientations.
As Spolsky (2004) worked to define and theorize a more comprehensive and
holistic approach to LPP, he suggested that, “language policy exists within a complex set
of social, political, economic, religious, demographic, educational and cultural factors
that make up the full ecology of human life” (p.ix). According to him the three steps that
make up components of language policy include: language practice, language ideology
and language management. Spolsky asserted that, “a host of non-linguistic factors
(political, demographic, social, religious, cultural, psychological, bureaucratic and so on)
regularly account for any attempt by persons or groups to intervene in the language
practices and the beliefs of other persons or groups and for the subsequent changes
that do or do not occur” (2004, p.6).
To explain the ecological context of language Spolsky (2004) suggests that
“people and societies are the environment” (p.7), although we must understand that the
35
units of language ecology are not yet fully defined, both in regards to the human
dimension and in nature. Critically important is that according to him, the complex and
dynamic forces that define everyday language use, “are far more powerful than
conscious, ideologically motivated practices” (Spolsky, 2004, p.7). Mohanty (2010), too,
sees Indian multilingualism as fundamentally a natural phenomenon (notwithstanding
the political dominance of English and Hindi), citing Bhatia and Ritchie, (2004), who state
that in India, “Centuries of co-existence and an ongoing process of convergence have
led to an unmarked pattern of widespread naturalistic linguistic coalescence rather than
separation, dominance and disintegration” (p. 795). Lewis and Trundell (2008) note that
a community’s language is a very “locally-sited cultural phenomenon and so intimately
bound into the identity of that community” (p.271). Such locally based linguistic and
cultural identities are a key to understanding the Indian and Punjabi situations.
The projection of a freewheeling multilingualism/heteroglossia in India is in direct
contrast though with rigid policy distinctions whereby Punjabi, Hindi, and English all
occupy distinct and separate positions in the education system in Punjab. While the TLF
envisioned a complimentary language formula, in reality, policy planners are constantly
working to position minority languages with power and privilege (like in the case of
Punjab with Punjabi) even when against all odds that does not fully dislodge the hold on
the country’s insatiable thirst for English as the language of upward mobility and global
access. In contrast to policy demands for hierarchical language access, in the schools
(based on my experience) students use three to five languages freely by code-switching
effectively with relative ease and comfort. Even 40 years since my formal schooling, I
can even today switch between English, Punjabi, Hindi and Urdu quite easily and with
little effort. In fact, public schools in Punjab do not frown on students’ multilingual
repertoire for daily translanguaging in the classroom or in the playground and students
do not feel the stress of singular or hierarchical language(s) access and utility in school,
even though the Punjabi language is the MOI in public schools and given a premier
position above English and Hindi.
Like the ever-expansive banyan trees seen all over India (mostly planted in the
centre of villages – under whose shade locals gather to meet and share stories),
vernacular languages in India continue to prosper through the daily translanguaging
experiences of a linguistically diverse society (Garcia & Lin, 2016). Garcia & Wei (2014)
conceptualize translanguaging as, “the language practices of bilinguals [seen] not as two
36
autonomous language systems….but as one linguistic repertoire with features that have
been socially constructed as belonging to two separate languages” (p.4). Yet the
question is whether this flexible individual and societal multilingualism can endure in the
face of policies that insist on the fact of those separate languages (Cummins, 2008 calls
this the ‘two solitudes’) and tie access to specific kinds of resources to them. Colin
Baker’s (2011) early definition of translanguaging in the educational context brought
forward the concept that it, “is the process of making meaning, shaping experiences,
gaining understanding and knowledge through the use of two languages” (p.288). The
idea that students draw on all their languages to maximize their understanding and
related achievements, was further developed by Garcia (2009) as a dynamic and
functionally integrated concept of dynamic bilingualism where translanguaging is the
process. At the same time with subtle variations, Canagarajah termed the same process
of daily language use as translingual practice (2011), while Otsuji & Pennycook (2001)
coined it as metrolingualism. Further to this, Li Wei (2011) suggested it was part of the
psycholinguistic process:
Translanguaging is both going between different linguistic structures and systems, including different modalities (speaking, writing, signing, listening, reading, remembering) and going beyond them. It includes the full range of linguistic performances of multilingual language users for purposes that transcend the combination of structures, the alternation between systems, the transmission of information and the representation of values, identities and relationships. The act of translanguaging then is transformative in nature, it creates a social space for the multilingual language user by bringing together different dimensions of their personal history, experience and environment, their attitude, beliefs and ideology, their cognitive and physical capacity into one coordinated and meaningful performance, and make it into a lived experience (p.1223).
While Garcia was mainly studying Latinos in the US and Li Wei looked at the
experiences of Chinese students in the UK, for me the concept of “languaging” as a verb
is relevant and evident as a vibrant and regularly negotiated sociolinguistic and
ecological presence in Punjab and many languages continue to thrive (although there is
great remorse at many languages becoming extinct as well).
As a whole, India’s perceived minimal ecological risk to languages is to be envied
by most countries. Many languages have continued to survive and thrive partly because
they are “in situ” and are protected by local attitudes and practices, in partial disregard of
distantly developed language policies. Political scientist David Laitin (1989) suggests
37
that the complexity of language hierarchy is simply understood and does not require
justification or intervention. Mohanty (2006, 2010) concurs that multilingual contact and
coexistence is the norm, although India’s linguistic hierarchy creates its own set of
communicative and intersectional issues.
However, I would suggest that this normative multilingual ideology is far from
ideally developed in Punjab and requires vigilance in policy implementation. In fact,
policy makers in India understand the capital that language brings both to employment
status and cultural status – “For an Orissa tribesman, one senior journalist pointed out to
me, it would be a ‘step-up’ to learn Tamil and to get a job as a clerk in Madras. Another
step up in this hierarchy would be to learn Hindi, and perhaps some Basic English”
(Laitin, 1989, p. 431). There are no guarantees that such a complex multilingual
environment will remain sustainable; already, there are great inequalities that affect
India’s linguistic minorities who suffer from language neglect. As Mohanty, (2010) states:
Apart from English and the 22 constitutionally recognized official languages, very few of the languages find a place in school curriculum either as languages of teaching or as schools subjects…The tribal and other minority languages have no place in education and the children who speak these languages, when they enter schools, are forced into submersion education in dominant languages, with a subtractive effect on their mother tongue (p.138).
The complexity and dynamism of such multilingual environments has inspired
numerous calls for the study of language ecology. The notion was first brought forward
in the early 1960’s by Einar Haugen, who defined it as “the study of interactions between
any given language and its environment” (1972, p. 325). He further codified his definition
with the following concepts:
- The true environment of a language is the society that uses it as one of its codes
- Language exists only in the mind of its users, and it only functions in relating these users to one another and to nature i.e. their social and natural environment
- Part of its ecology is therefore psychological: its interaction with the society in which it functions as a medium of speakers
- Another part of its ecology is sociological: its interaction with the society in which it functions as a medium of communication
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- The ecology of a language is determined primarily by the people who learn it, use it, and transmit it to others (p.325).
The concept of language ecology has since been picked up and developed by a
number of other scholars. Language planning policy frameworks can be seen as “the
support system for a structural ecology of language rather than individual languages”
(Mühlhäusler, 1996, p. 8-9). Kaplan and Baldauf (1997) suggest that languages evolve
in an eco-system that is affected by many elements which include natural death of
languages, creation of new dialects, societal shift, absorption of languages into each
other etc. The authors state that, “Language planning…is a question of trying to manage
the language ecology of a particular language to support it within the vast cultural,
educational, historical, demographic, political, social structure in which language policy
formulation occurs every day” (Kaplan and Baldauf, 1997, p.13). In support of this idea,
in her ethnographic study of multilingual language policies in the north of India, Groff
(2018) found that,
The human dimension of a linguistic ecology I see as mediated thorough local language ideologies, which are made relevant in part through language use practices and discourses about language. Language ideologies also include the making, interpretation and implementation of language planning and policy at all levels (p. 4).
My primary interest in the concept concerns its possible relevance to maintaining
multilingualism at the local level. In the case of a rich linguistic region like Punjab, an
ecological approach to language planning would appropriately connect the language
planner/user with his/her environment where multi-lingual co-existence is considered to
be, “a resource worth preserving” (Fettes, 1997, p.20). In Punjab, a particular linguistic
environment has been developed within which Punjabi thrives, with its members as the
mindful conduits who determine how they will interact psychologically and sociologically
with other languages around them by using language as a medium of instruction and
communication (Eliasson, 2015). As explained in Chapter 5, historically this linguistic
eco-system has been impacted by government, non-government agencies, educational
organizations, and speakers from the three main linguistic groups (Punjabi, Hindi and
Urdu). Language rules, variety categorization, word appropriation and cross-over,
evolution of terms etc. are clearly formulated and proclaimed as policy. This formulation
does not, however, guarantee success, especially in Punjab where there is a naturally
driven tension between federal policy frameworks and local policy implementation. In
39
addition, as in other states in India, Punjab faces challenges in implementing multilingual
classrooms in an agricultural/migrant labour dependent state.
It behoves policy actors in Punjab to understand that “the chasm between policy
and practice with respect to the place of languages and minority mother tongues leads to
educational failure and capability deprivation of the minority linguistic groups” (Mohanty,
2010, p. 131). Critical theory highlights the imperative to rethink language planning and
policy in the service of liberation, which in turn entails transforming curricula, pedagogy
and the culture of education in India (Mohanty, 1994). It could be argued that without
paying full and critical attention, in Punjab policy designed curriculum might also create
hegemonic paradigms, support canons and voices that embody dominant narratives and
ideologies. From a critical perspective, the policy actors in Punjab need to “recognize the
planning-policy-making process and field of LPP itself as ideological and discursive,
reflecting and (re)producing class, race, language and power” (McCarty, 2013, p.40).
The contextual nature of knowledge and the plurality of meaning making in such a
diverse country need to be inserted into the perspectives of LPP, so that it is understood,
for example, within “the relations of domination and exploitation in production” (Wright,
2016, p. 33). To critically question how certain knowledge is situated in the realms of
difference vis-à-vis marginality (e.g. language rights), or positioned as inconsequential
(class/caste), etc., helps enlarge the boundaries and scope of policy making so that new
planning mechanisms by policy makers and educators become evident.
For the purpose of this study, I turn to discourse analysis as a data analysis
method to make sense of Indian educational contexts (Gee 1999). In the practice of
discourse analysis, scholars like Sinclair and Coulthard (1976) and others undertook
linguistic analysis of classroom talk by teachers (student and teacher’s discourse acts).
At the same time, drawing on critical social theory, both micro and macro interactions
were being analysed drawing together cultural theorists and linguistic anthropologists to
explain how discourse is constructed and how it represents the social world (how things
come to be, how they might be different and that they can be changed). I am interested
in how Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA) as a tool helps me mediate social interactions,
institutions and bodies of knowledge that are influenced by dominance, representation,
ideology, power and privilege. Tenorio (2011) states that, “CD analysts focus on those
features contributing to the fabric of discourse in which dominant ideologies are adopted
or challenged, and in which competing and contradictory ideologies coexist” (p. 184).
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While Discourse itself as a concept has many distinctions, Gee (1999) suggests the
following association: small-d-discourse is about the actual language and big-D-
discourse is about the knowledge being produced within the language and how the world
behaves towards that knowledge and the resulting beliefs and actions that affect our
social world. India’s language policies while politically motivated are socially constructed
(with all their inherent inequities) and represented by policy actors in the form of
directives from up above that they then mediate in the public education system (the
schools and classroom). Utilizing critical analysis, I am looking for actual meaning in
these reflexive contexts whether the language and its context are continuously mirroring
their own perspectives or not and what is their effect on each other. Scholars that
critique of CDA suggest that it’s eclectic and inter-disciplinary nature on modes of
analysis that does not produce conversation (like my study of policy directives) (Teo,
2000) which I combat by using interactional data – policy directives developed by policy
actors Further, the critique that CDA’s social-based ambitions cannot be put into practice
because the analysis is unable to produce action and that isolated contexts cannot be
relied upon (Rogers et al, 2000). In response to researcher bias, I ensure that multiple
contexts make up part of the study - political, social, ideological and ecological help me
contextualize the larger issues of language policy implementation. As a reflexive
analyser (self critique) I need to understand my role as data collector and question the
text to be analysed (Mautner, 2009).
While India is recognized as a polyglot, and its linguistic diversity is the envy of
the world, the Three Language Formula policy produces anxiety for the educational
needs of linguistic minorities all over India. The policy’s framing is steeped in inequities
that seek to assimilate and subsume languages to the point of extinction. In view of
these inequities and in order to explore India’s language education policy frameworks
within the linguistic ecology of Punjab, I paid particular attention to the manner in which
policy is implemented by policy actors. The interplay between national-level policies and
on the ground state policy realties and practices provided a fertile ground for my
interaction with both the policy framework and its historically situated ideologies, and the
ensuing (current) directives developed for public school education in Punjab. I collected
data from the work of Punjab’s ministry of education policy actors as they developed
policy directives for the state sanctioned school board and I analyzed them against
national and state policy frameworks. In the region of Punjab three official (and many
41
more unofficial) languages co-exist within the region, however despite pluralistic
language planning and minority language MOI (Punjabi) in the public system, the
dominant forces of English and Hindi continue to put stress on the early acquisition of
mother tongue education.
42
India’s language policy
The language question should not be reduced simply to the problem of language planning, policy and programs, but should take into account the ideological power of language(s) and its various forms of domination and subordination.
Sarangi, 2009, p.2.
3.1. From Colonialization to Independence
I start this chapter with a historic narrative before I undertake a critical analysis of
India’s language planning and policy. I contend that a mastery of language affords
remarkable power, claims Frantz Fanon in Black Skin, White Mask (2008). Writing about
the pivotal role of language in cultural, racial and political domination, Fanon posits that,
“a man who possesses a language possesses as an indirect consequence the world
expressed and implied by this language” (p.2). This theory nicely captures the challenge
that Free India faced at the time of Independence in 1947 since its citizens had little
control over their own languages under British Raj. At Independence, on the one hand,
there emerged an ethno-linguistic nationalism agenda of granting status to (at least
some of) India’s many linguistic communities, supporting the ideology that languages
make nations (Kamusella, 2018). On the other hand, this agenda was in direct
competition with the erstwhile colonial language (English) that still dominated the
landscape in a post-colonial setting, including its role as a vehicle of elite status,
privilege and power (Tollefsen & Tsui, 2018; Tollefsen &, Pérez-Milans 2018). In my
study of India’s long and arduous journey in language planning and policy I found that
the desired socio-linguistic context noted above had been articulated long before
Independence.
One might say that the myopic Thomas Babington Macaulay (McCully, 1940),
cited in Chapter 2, helped to create the first formal national language planning policy in
colonial India (1757-1947). In his infamous Minute of 1835, Macaulay wrote that the aim
of the British Raj was to create a class of English-speaking Indians who could mediate
between the handful of British rulers and the millions whom they had colonized and now
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governed. The goal of the colonizers was to create persons who were “Indian by blood
but British in taste, opinions, morals and intellect.” The medium of English would provide
access to western science and art, which would in turn contribute to educating the
masses and refining the thousands of “dialects” (Parameswaran, 1997). The British had
previously paid scant attention to India’s languages, although, in almost all the diverse
regions of India, local languages had been consistently utilized for centuries in education
and religious instruction (Khubchandani, Kachru, & Webster, 2015). From 1835
onwards, official British Raj policy sought to replace these with English, instigating a
powerful hold on the country’s people and at the same time negating its linguistic
diversity.
However, the British themselves were not united in implementing Macaulay’s
policy. Two factions emerged, the Orientalists and the Occidentalists, both of whom
fanned the flames of controversy about language, but from two very opposing points of
view (Khubchandani, 2008). The English-language-favouring, hierarchically inclined
Occidentalists were led by the influential Charles Grant (1746-1823), while the
Orientalists were led by H.T. Princept (1792-1878) who opposed English language
hegemony. Rahman (1995) suggests that the Orientalists were inclined to “conciliating
the native elites” (p.8), while the Occidentalists favoured westernization of the elite in
India so as to assure the British Raj of their loyalty. The Orientalist language policies
(between 1780-1835) in British India had cultivated indigenous languages like Sanskrit,
Persian and Arabic both for Indians and the ruling British elite with a goal to create an
administrative class that could understand and govern the populace. However, in 1835,
the Occidentals made English the official language of the Raj’s judiciary, administration
and education, ensuring its supreme position. At the end of the day, both groups aimed
to consolidate the Raj’s hold over its people in different ways (Rahman, 1995). Rao
(2008) in his study of India’s language debates states that, “Whichever nation the British
colonized, they instilled or imposed ideas of some sort of national language, often
creating ethnic and linguistic ruptures regarding language in these societies” (p. 65).
It is telling that even while under the suffocating yoke of colonialism, Indian
institutional structures used whatever power they had and started the long struggle to
overturn the hegemony of English starting in 1920. Minutes of the Provincial Congress
Committee meetings from the time show how members aimed to start reaching out to
their constituents in their vernaculars. It would have been incumbent on the ruling British
44
to take heed when while debating the prospects for a Free India, members and leaders
of the Congress like Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru agreed that, “provincial
languages were to be the instruments for achieving national democracy” (Austin, 2009,
p. 48). However, time and power were not on their side and this proclamation could not
be put to the test until more than twenty-five years later in 1947 when India finally
succeeded in its demand for Independence. The important work to carve out twenty-two
states and a few centrally administered union territories to make up the new India, with
demarcations and boundaries drawn on local linguistic lines. This geo-linguistic mapping
of India was in direct contrast to the previous map of India that had been drawn
arrogantly along lines of administrative convenience by the British, since the colonists
had always paid little heed to India’s linguistic strengths (Moon, 2014; Petrovic and
Majumdar, 2010). While right from the outset in 1947, the states were granted the ability
to educate their citizens in the languages of the region, debate quickly ensued about the
national need for a unifying language in central administration. The British had used
English as a national language – very much a European ideal, not one previously
desired in a multilingual nation like India.
The linguistic landscape of pre- and post-independence India was a complex one
indeed. While in 1881 the census had reported 188 languages and 49 dialects, in 1931
the census listed 141 languages, while in 1951 90% of the speakers came from the
following language groups: Hindi, Urdu, Punjabi, Telegu, Marathi, Tamil, Bengali,
Gujarati, Kannada, Malayalam, Odia and Assamese, with the 10% remaining making up
the vast majority of languages with less than ten thousand speakers. In 1961 the census
was vastly different, reporting 1,652 mother tongues out of which 184 had fewer than ten
thousand speakers (Dasgupta, 1970). However, Sarangi (2009) writes, “The total
number of languages listed in the census records since 1951 has not been uniform or
exact because there has been a considerable loss of minority language to the majority or
dominant languages” (p.14). Regardless of census records, India was a well-recognized
polyglot society and it was agreed by the political leaders that the nation’s languages
needed some coherent organizing and recognition. This recognition would create
endless debate and much wrangling as the power of language(s) associated to identity,
cohesion and cultural ethos was worth fighting over.
It was evident right at Independence that certain languages had more power and
privilege over others – Hindi for example, was a majority language in much of the north,
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and dominated the country at 45% usage. With the exit of the British rulers, the clamour
for replacement of English with Hindi as the official language of India by Hindu
proponents and religious extremists initiated a long and arduous debate. While it was
acknowledged that English connected the north, south, east and west, and the
government machinery and the judiciary continued to be ensconced within a deeply
entrenched English speaking bureaucracy, the colonial legacy of linguistic domination
(English) and resulting elitist classism was now under rigorous and vociferous question.
Gandhi and other Congress stalwarts like Jawaharlal Nehru, Vallabhai Patel, Rajendra
Prasad and Maulana Azad, who hailed from the north, had always advocated for
Hindustani (a mix of Hindi and Urdu) as the national language. However, it was because
of this affiliation to their languages of birth that “Hindustani became forever tarred with
the brush of northern power in the party” (Austin, 2009, p.52).
This was the conflictual backdrop to the convening of the first National Assembly
and the initial raucous debates started on the planning for a language policy in an
independent India. In 1946 the two leading political parties of the time, the Congress
(headed by elitist Hindus) and the Muslim League (headed by elitist Muslims) had
agreed to the Cabinet Mission Plan for provincial elections before the British left India for
good. While Congress sought to have a Central Assembly by universal adult franchise, a
dismal showing of only 28.5% of adults in the provinces claimed their right to the
franchise in the Provincial Assembly. These Assemblies in turn selected members to the
National Assembly on a ratio of 1 to every million persons (Agnihotri & Khanna, 1997).
With this limited representation, a draft Constitution was promulgated, within which
India’s newly elected 22 state representatives vehemently demanded official recognition
of their own languages.
Within this conflicting milieu of competing interests, the National Constituent
Assembly put their minds to the language problem during six weeks from August 1st to
Sept 14th, 1946. The National Assembly’s Rules Committee under Rajendra Prasad’s
chairmanship proclaimed on December 14, 1946 that Hindustani or English would be the
language of business in the Assembly (Parliament). Although a member could use their
own mother tongue with the President’s permission, this decision unleashed fury from
the South representatives that their many languages with a longer literary history were
not considered in the same manner as Hindi. This indirectly strengthened the position of
English: while many motions from the floor sought to remove it as a national language,
46
the point was pressed by southern members that it would take time for all of India to
learn Hindustani in order to effectively take part in technical discussions at the
Legislature. The following rejoinder by Seth Govind Das conveys the acrimonious tone
of the debates in the Assembly and the imposition related commentary:
I want to tell my brethren from Madras that if after twenty-five years of efforts on the part of Mahatma Gandhi they have not been able to understand Hindustani, the blame lies at their door. It is beyond our patience that because some of the brethren from Madras do not understand Hindustani, English should reign supreme in a Constituent Assembly (Austin, 2009, p. 53).
It was abundantly evident the north and south linguistic divide was very real and that
ideologization of Hindi was at play.
Dr. Bhim Rao Ambedkar, the architect of India’s first Constitution was a social
reformer who had studied western liberal thought in the works of John Stuart Mill,
Edmund Burke and John Dewey, wrote on his sick bed that he always held the belief
that a single language must be decided upon to bind a country and its fellow citizens
(Moon, 2014). As well, he wrote that unilingual provinces would help solve racial and
cultural conflicts even though they, “may easily develop into an independent nationality.
The road between an independent nationality and an independent state is very narrow. If
this happens, India will cease to be modern India and will become the medieval India
consisting of a variety of States indulging in rivalry and warfare” (Moon, 2014, p.145).
The western ideal of a national language was elucidated by Ambedkar partly because of
his intensely discriminatory experiences as a Dalit (the untouchables of India). It was
caste-based atrocities and the menace of ‘venerable’ privilege that drove him to move
the country towards a new and modern state that could realize democratic self-
determination.
However, dismantling entrenched hierarchical systems is never easy and
wrangling continued with little resolution into the opening of the fourth Assembly session
on July 14, 1947. However, the horrific communal events of Partition in August 1947
effectively killed any hope for Hindustani as the official language. Three quarters of the
province of Punjab (inhabited by a majority of Sikhs and Muslims) in the west and half of
the province of Bengal (inhabited by a majority of Hindus and Muslims) in the east were
severed by the receding colonial masters, creating the new nation-state of East and
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West Pakistan (located on both ends of India). Punjabi Sikhs and Muslims in the west,
and Bengali Muslims and Hindus in the East, felt the brunt of the land partition and much
blood was shed in the mass exodus of peoples across the newly charted, cold and aloof
cartography of the Radcliffe Line. It is estimated that 7,226,000 Muslims moved to
Pakistan and 7,249,000 Hindus and Sikhs moved to India and a million lost their lives in
the division (Mason, 2008).
Inappropriate but opportunistic anger of Hindi-wallahs became directed towards
Muslims, whom they blamed for having initiated the Partition, and many united against
anything to do with Urdu, which they claimed unfairly was the language of the Muslims.
Against this backdrop of discriminatory public opinion, linguistic driven acrimony and
political posturing, the weary drafters of the Constitution, without the official sanction of
the Assembly, defined Hindi and English as the official language of Parliament. The
Congress Party leaders were reticent to further divide their own membership on the
language issue; they resigned themselves to the reality of Hindi as India’s official
language, while promoting accommodation of Hindustani in the everyday business of
governance (Austin, 2009). However, even so, accommodation was not to be found.
Hindi-speaking extremists further demanded Sanskritized Hindi as India’s only official
language, and that the Constitution (which was drafted in English) be officially translated
into Sanskritzed Hindi as a condition for it to be adopted (Austin, 2009). It is evident from
this debate that language can exercise power and its users can work to dislodge fair
ideals of equality and justice, against its very emancipatory promise. Powerful political
interventions and influences by the dominant northern Hindi speaking elite was a
realization of their narrow minded and exclusionary motives for language preservation by
those in the south, even while they were conjoined in a newly independent nation.
A historical note is needed here. Despite the fact that in ancient India Sanskrit
had been the language of the government, religion and literature, it held little or no
currency for the average contemporary Indian (Khare, 2002). Brahmins and noblemen
had used Sanskrit in ancient times, but during Islamic rule in India (mid-16th to mid-19th
century), Sanskrit gave way to Persian and the patois that developed became known as
Hindavi or Urdu. Under the succeeding British rule, Hindi and Urdu flourished with the
populace as the languages required to acquire lower level government jobs in the Raj,
but in order to differentiate themselves, Hindi borrowed from Sanskrit and Urdu from
Persian (Khare, 2002). In 1947, the prevalent high-handed attitudes of the Hindi-wallahs
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could best be described as “narrow nationalism generating its own fervour and tolerating
no deviation from its own vision of what was truly Indian” (Austin, 2009, p.65).
Nonetheless, this had consequences for language policy. Jarayam (1993), for example,
observes that “a definite result of the national movement and of the efforts of the Hindi
zealots to impose that language on all non-Hindi speaking states, has been the
ideologization of Hindi in the six Hindi-speaking states, and the glorification of the
respective regional languages in the non-Hindi speaking states” (p. 94).
Within this charged environment where the constant demands for national unity
in the face of much dominant language speakers’ pressures were an everyday
occurrence, debates included the need for minority languages also requiring protection.
Key drafters of the Constitution like B.R. Ambedkar had envisioned nationhood and
independence to “include discussions of cultural difference, language, democracy,
federalism, power sharing and equal rights” (Bharadwaj, 2015, p.81). These bold ideas
in theory were debated in the formulation of language planning and policy and
development in the formation of a new multilingual nation. As early as 1931, Article 1 (3)
of the Karachi Resolution stated, “The culture, language and script of the minorities and
of the different linguistic areas shall be protected” (Shodhganga, n.d., p. 392). This
occurred at the 1931 Karachi session, where in the shadow of key pro-nationalist and
anti-Raj events the Congress was propelled to establish socio-economic principles and
rights that would need to be enshrined in the new Constitution of a Free India with a
focus on language and culture being one of the 14 fundamental rights and duties.
Further to this, the Central Advisory Board of Education (CABE) in 1938 had supported
mother tongue instruction in primary schools as a moral obligation Article 1 (b) stated
that the medium of instruction be the mother-tongue (CABE, 1938-1943). It is interesting
to note that notwithstanding the pressures of pro-Hindi nationalist groups (even before
Independence), rights and duties took a central position in the work undertaken in the
crafting of a future Constitution.
Once Independences was granted, linguistic tensions among minorities and
practice realities on the ground in the multilingual provinces forced an effort at
compromise, introduced as a resolution in the Assembly on August 5, 1948. The
resolution proposed by the Centre was that 14 languages of the states would be the
official language of communication between the Centre and the states with a slow move
towards English being completely replaced:
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The state language will be the language of correspondence with the Provincial and State Governments. All records of the Centre will be kept and maintained in that language. It will also serve as the language for inter-Provincial and inter-State commerce and correspondence. During a period of transition, which shall not exceed fifteen years, English may be used at the Centre and for inter-Provincial affairs provided that the State language will be progressively utilized until it replaces English” (Austin, 2009, p.71).
The resolution was heavily debated for weeks and Hindi’s favoured official position was
continually forcefully promoted by the Hindi-wallahs who accused those in opposition of
being anti-nationalist, conflating the language with nationalism with abandon. Conflicted
within the resolution was the pragmatic issue of how to uphold one language for the
whole country while enriching regional languages. As a result, a “Schedule” of state
(provinces) languages was developed by the Centre and it was proposed that this
“Schedule” would hold within it the many state languages, but only those that were
afforded official status. After much acrimonious debate, on September 14, 1948, the
Assembly voted to accept Part XVII in the Constitution, enshrining Hindi in Devanagari
script with international numerals as the official language of the country along with
English for the first fifteen years and 14 languages of the various states within a
“Schedule” of languages that would be the official languages of the state (Austin, 2009).
Many more languages were added over the years with 22 languages included in the
current Eighth Schedule of the Constitution (Eighth Schedule, n.d. see Appendix C).
“The 8th Schedule is “the most important language policy statement” in India. Out of a
total of 114 languages in 28 states and 7 UTs, 22 languages have now been scheduled,
and 92 are still not scheduled” (Benedikter, 2013, p. 16). Article 343(1) (Appendix D) of
the Indian Constitution (enshrined on Nov, 26 1949) stated that Hindi (Devanagari script)
was to be the Official Language of the Union. However, Article 343(2) also provided for
the continuing the use of English in the official work of the Union for a period of 15 years
from the date of commencement of the Constitution until 25 January, 1965. Article
343(3) empowered the Parliament to provide by law for the continued use of English for
official purposes even after 25 January, 1965 by stating:
(3) Notwithstanding anything in this article, Parliament may by law provide for the use, after the said period of fifteen years, of
(a) The English language, or (b) The Devanagari form of numerals for such purposes as may be
specified in the law.
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Conflicts over language rights had finally been put to the test in a legally bound
Constitution and Indians had been put on notice that they would need to find resolution
to the continued problems of mother tongue and common languages. For the first time in
300 years since the British ruled over India, Indian citizens would have to work out their
differences within policy frameworks that would need to be developed post 1949. In a
new democracy (the kind India had never experienced before) with embattled coffers
after the Raj was done with looting the country, social inequalities, poverty and illiteracy
of a scale beyond imagination, and the constant friction of linguistic rights, decision
making about India’s linguistic future would play out in different political planning and
policy arenas (more on that below). In 1949, in the face of much conflict what had been
enshrined within Article 343(2) was the limited promise of some recognition of the
diversity of India’s languages (with powerful languages rising to the top), uniquely
positioning India as the only country with such a constitutionally sanctioned language
repertoire and all its ancillary problems that needed still needed resolution. India was at
the turning point in realizing that, “social hierarchy, discrimination and subordination on
the basis of caste, class, culture, religion and language lead to disadvantages and
voicelessness, which are associated with illiteracy and educational failure” (Mohanty,
2017b, p. 262). While the status quo embedded in linguistic power and hierarchy was
evident in Article 343, did the powerful politicians at the time realize what Mohanty
(2009) has so clearly elucidated and could they have done things differently?
When language becomes the basis of power, control and discrimination, socioeconomic inequality is perpetuated; the language(s) that people speak or do not speak determines their access to resources. Education is a critical factor in this relationship between languages and power. The exclusion and nonaccommodation of languages in education denies equality of opportunity to learn, violates linguistic human rights, leads to the loss of linguistic diversity and triggers a vicious cycle of disadvantage perpetuating inequality, capacity deprivation and poverty (p. 121).
3.2. Policy in a Multilingual Democracy
Before looking at how the language policy of independent India has evolved over
the last 70+ years, especially in the field of education, a bit more information is needed
about its vast and diverse linguistic landscape. I will spend some time here on laying the
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groundwork for the complicated and positional historical record in language planning and
policy in India post-Independence before putting my mind to its analysis,
In the1991 Census Survey of India, 10,000+ mother tongues are named,
classified into 3372 mother tongues, out of which 1,576 were listed and the remaining
1,796 were grouped under ‘other’. In the VIIIth schedule of the Constitution of India, 22
languages became recognized as official languages and English was given associate
language status (Eighth Schedule n.d.; Mohanty et al, 2010). Presented below is a short
list of major languages and mother tongues with speakers' strength of 10,000 and
above, at the all India level (from the 2001 census), grouped by state. Each Indian state
is pluricultural and plurilingual, as the following table shows:
Table 1. Plurilingual Population
SET STATES MAJOR LANGUAGE OTHER LANGUAGES WITH SIGNIFICANT POPULATION
A Kerala Malayalam (96.6%) Tamil, Kannada Punjab Punjabi (92.2%) Hindi, Urdu Gujarat Gujarati (91.5%) Hindi, Sindhi Haryana Hindi (91.0%) Punjabi, Urdu U.P. Hindi (90.1%) Urdu, Punjabi Rajasthan Hindi (89.6%) Bhili, Urdu H.P. Hindi (88.9%) Punjabi, Kinnauri Tamil Nadu Tamil (86.7%) Telugu, Kannada West Bengal Bangla (86.0%) Hindi, Urdu A.P. Telugu (84.8%) Urdu, Hindi B M.P Hindi (85.6%) Bhili, Gondi Bihar Hindi (80.9%) Urdu, Santali Orissa Oriya (82.8%) Hindi, Telugu Mizoram Lushai (75.1%) Bangla, Lakher Maharashtra Marathi (73.3%) Hindi, Urdu C Goa Konkani (51.5%) Marathi, Kannada Meghalaya Khasi (49.5%) Garo, Bangla Tripura Bangla (68.9%) Tripuri, Hindi Karnataka Kannada (66.2%) Urdu, Telugu D Sikkim Nepali (63.1%) Bhotia, Lepch Manipur Manipuri (60.4%) Thadou, Tangkhul Assam Assamese (57.8%) Bangla, Boro E Arunachal Nissi (19.9%0 Nepali, Bangla Nagaland Ao (14.0%) Sema, Konyak
Source: http://censusindia.gov.in/Census_Data_2001/Census_Data_Online/Language/data_on_language.html
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It is also relevant to know that, while India has been urbanizing for 70+ years and
now has 51 cities, 384 urban agglomerates and 5,161 towns, most Indians still live in
rural areas and in small towns with mainly oral, locally specific linguistic practices and
with scant knowledge of English. This linguistic and cultural reality poses at the same
time one of the country’s most significant educational challenges that are ongoing and in
constant need of resolution. There are great divergences in school standards and state
public education seems to lag behind the private wealth seeking system of education.
Mohanty (2017b) suggests that vernacular medium school students’ prospects are poor
both in terms of achievement and quality of teaching. How India will conquer that divide
is yet to be proven – he asks: “Whom do English medium schools teach and whom do
they cheat?)” (p. 273).
It appears that this current dilemma is one that the Indian National Congress
(Congress) had been grappling with even before the reins of power were handed over to
them by the ousted British in 1947 - the ideas and issues of language and educational
opportunity for its many citizens were critically important then and even now The
Congress wanted to see mother tongue language maintenance in a national scheme
and local languages included in the mandated media of instruction (Petrovic and
Majumdar, 2010). There was also the question of when and how to introduce the
learning of English (and It was hoped, to an increasing degree, Hindi) as the language of
higher education and government bureaucracy after Independence.
In January 1948, the Central Advisory Board of Education (CABE) was created
by the All India Education Conference to address various problems in the area of
education. The CABE struck a Committee on Secondary Education in India (CSEI) to
make recommendations on the aims and objects of secondary education as they related
to language use in the classroom. Specifically, the CSEI was tasked with issuing a
report whose goal was to “consider the place of the national language and English in
secondary education” (CSEI, 1948, p.40). The members of the CSEI issued a report
later that same year recommending the following language strategy:
- Five years of Junior Basic education, three years at Senior Basic and four at Secondary Stage;
- The federal language (Hindi) would start at Junior Basic, continue as a compulsory language throughout the Senior Basic and become optional at the Secondary Stage;
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- English would follow suit except it might be optional at the Senior Basic level and then be assured that it become the medium of instruction at India’s Universities;
- When the goal to have English cease to be the medium of instruction at India’s Universities becomes a reality, Hindi would become compulsory at the Secondary Stage (CSEI report, 1948, p.40; Kumar, 1976).
At around the same time as the CSEI report of 1948, the University Education
Commission (UEC) was appointed by the Government of India, "to report on Indian
University Education and suggest improvements and extensions that may be desirable
to suit present and future requirements of the country" (University Education
Commission, 1962, p.1). The UEC report was the result of deliberations from December
1948 to August 1949 and was tabled in 1950 by its Chairman Dr. Sarvepalli
Radhakrishnan, an Oxford Professor who was later to become the President of India in
1962. The Commission put their minds to the problem of medium of instruction:
For many years the current of national opinion has flowed with increasing force in the direction of the replacement of English by an Indian language. National pride legitimately felt hurt at the idea of an alien language occupying a dominating position in the field of national culture. Thus, as the national struggle gathered force the desire for the adoption of an Indian language as the means of inter-provincial intercourse, of administration and of higher education gained in strength and volume. Naturally on the attainment of independence the ardent among it expected an immediate fulfilment of their desire, and they feel somewhat surprised and hurt when it is pointed out that the question is a complicated one and does not admit of an easy and immediate solution (Ministry of Education, 1962, p. 266).
After much complex deliberation, the UEC nonetheless came down in favour of
moving the country from English to Hindi as the Federal Language. Its view was that “the
use of English as such, divides the people into two nations, the few who govern and the
many who are governed, that one is unable to talk the language of the other, and are
mutually incomprehensible. This is a negation of democracy” (p.276). These nascent
ideas of what makes India a better democracy still needed to be proven and were still in
the theoretical stages, albeit with much thought and consideration. Would English really
divide the country and was not Hindi also in the same category in the present moment?
Accordingly, it made the following recommendations, which are worthy of a read, in that
they touch not only on the status of English and Hindi but on other, regional languages
as well:
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We recommend: -
1. That the Federal Language be developed through the assimilation of words from various sources and the retention of words which have already entered into Indian languages from different sources, thereby avoiding the dangers of exclusiveness.
2. That international technical and scientific terminology be adopted, the borrowed words be properly assimilated, their pronunciation be adapted to the phonetic system of the Indian language and their spelling fixed in accordance with the sound symbols of Indian scripts.
3. That for the medium of instruction for higher education English be replaced as early as practicable by an Indian language which cannot be Sanskrit on account of vital difficulties.
4. that (i) pupils at the higher secondary and University stages be made conversant, with three languages,-the regional language, the Federal language and English (the last one in order to acquire the ability to read books in English); and (ii) Higher education be imparted through the instru- mentality of the regional language, with the option to use the Federal language as the medium of instruction either for some subjects or for all subjects.
5. That for the Federal language one script, Devanagari be employed and some of its defects be removed.
6. That immediate steps be taken for developing the Federal and Regional languages : (i) A Board consisting of scientists and linguists be appointed to prepare a scientific vocabulary of words which will be common to all Indian languages and also to arrange for the preparation of books in different sciences to be rendered into all Indian languages; (ii) Provincial Governments be required to take steps to introduce the teaching of the Federal language in all classes of higher secondary schools, in degree colleges, and in Universities.
7. That English be studied in high schools and in the Universities in order that we may keep in touch with the living stream of ever-growing knowledge (p.284).
It comes as no surprise that the work of the CABE and the UEC withstood
scrutiny for a short five years, until the first extensive national review of the languages
question was assigned to the Official Languages Commission (OLC) on June 7, 1955 by
the President of India Dr. Rajendra Prasad under the leadership of B.G. Kher. The OLC
was to respond to Article 343 in the Indian Constitution where language rights were
enshrined (Article 343, n.d. see Appendix D). The OLC’s mandate was broader than the
one given to the UEC; it was to make recommendations on how Hindi could
progressively become the language of the Union, on what restrictions could be placed
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on the use of English for official purposes, and how India could develop a timeline for the
eventual adoption of Hindi as the official language of the Union (Report of the Official
Language Commission, 1956). It would seem that the old guard was still holding out for
Hindi as the national language and with it the power would be consolidated with Hindi
speakers who were the elite in the north where the seat of government was located.
So out of touch were the powerful elite in the north with the desires of all of India,
that when Hindu nationalism raised its head again for a language related nationalism, no
heed was given to the sensibilities of the south. Upon completion of its deliberations, the
OLC made a recommendation for an immediate change to Hindi as the national
language and a bid for replacing English by stating, “Replacement of English from its
unnatural and therefore wrong position of being the medium of administration and higher
education in the country is the most outstanding national venture we are called upon to
undertake (p.357). Further, the Commission recommended, “Multilingual as we are, we
need for such an experiment the unavoidable accompaniment of an Antar Bhasha – a
lingua franca. Accordingly, we have decided that it will be Hindi, the common language
of the largest number amongst us” (p. 357). Two dissenting votes were recorded by
members from non-Hindi speaking states, and Parliamentarians from Madras,
Maharashtra, Punjab, Karnataka, Puducherry, Andhra Pradesh and Bengal also
registered their objection. Almost immediately upon the release of the OLC report, riots
ensued, especially in Southern Indian states like Tamil Nadu where people historically
had been and currently were in complete opposition to the promulgation of Hindi as a
national language to be adopted by every state. Indeed, Tamils had supported the anti-
Hindi movement (as a compulsory language) even while the British were ruling India.
Saivite leader and venerated scholar Gnaniyar Adigal had famously said in 1938:
A thousand years ago Sanskrit came to Tamilnadu. We welcomed it. A few centuries ago, English came. We said, ‘Welcome’ and showed warm hospitality. What did we gain? Slowly these two languages devoured our Tamil language. Now Hindi too is coming. Moreover, it is going to be mandatory (Venkatachalapathy, 1995, p.766).
Provincial agitations were supported by two Union Ministers who threatened to
resign; women got out and protested and went to jail; students shut down universities;
and street protests turned into riots with self-immolation and suicides, in Tamil Nadu in
particular (Hargraves, 1965). These widespread public protests halted the great political
shift in India, putting tremendous pressure on the central government to ease off its
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desire to make Hindi mandatory as the first language in any state. The same democracy
that Raj weary India had desired in all its concomitant states was now being exercised
by the people and the government was forced to listen.
A quick to the goal of replacing English with Hindi came soon after, in the report
of the English Review Commission (ERC) of the University Grants Commission under
Chairman H.N. Kunzru. In its 1957 report, and in direct contrast to the OLC, the ERC
recommended that the Government should not hasten to replace English at the state
universities, and that adequate knowledge of English was necessary for higher
education even when another language might be used as the medium of instruction
(Report of the English Review Commission, 1957). The value of English language as a
global language made its position unassailable, whatever domestic political concerns
might suggest. In this the Commission was not breaking new ground, but reasserting
facts that were already widely acknowledged (Kachru and Webster, 2015).
The intractability of the status quo was eventually recognized in the Official
Languages Act (OLA), which was brought into force on May 10, 1963 (Sarkar, 2008;
Annamalai, 1986; Chindabaram, 1986; Annamalai, 1979). The Act provided for
continuing the use of English in official work of the Union even after the 15-year caveat
by stating:
Notwithstanding the expiration of the period of fifteen years from the commencement of the Constitution, the English language may, as from the appointed day, continue to be used, in addition to Hindi,
(a) for all official purposes of the Union for which it was being used immediately before that day, and
(b) for the transaction of business in Parliament (Das Gupta, 1971, p. 271).
Section 3(2) of the Official Languages Act, 1963 was amended on January 8,
1968 guaranteeing a virtually indefinite policy of bilingualism in the Union, by making
English and Hindi compulsory for specific administrative purposes.
The Official Languages Act 1963 which had been promulgated by the Central
government along with the National Policy on Education 1968 stated the following
philosophy and ideology:
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(3) Development of Languages (a) Regional Languages: The energetic development of Indian languages and literature is a sine qua non for educational and cultural development. Unless this is done, the creative energies of the people will not be released, standards of education will not improve, knowledge will not spread to the people, and the gulf between the intelligentsia and the masses will remain, if not widen further. The regional languages are already in use as media of education at the primary and secondary stages. Urgent steps should now be taken to adopt them as media of education at the university stage. (b) Three-Language Formula: At the secondary stage, the State Governments should adopt, and vigorously implement, the three-language formula which includes the study of a modern Indian language, preferably one of the southern languages, apart from Hindi and English in the Hindi-speaking States, and of Hindi along with the regional language and English in the non-Hindi speaking States. Suitable courses in Hindi and/or English should also be available in universities and colleges with a view to improving the proficiency of students in these languages up to the prescribed university standards.
(c) Hindi: Every effort should be made to promote the development of Hindi. In developing Hindi as the link language, due care should be taken to ensure that it will serve, as provided for in Article 351 of the Constitution, as a medium of expression for all the elements of the composite culture of India. The establishment, in non-Hindi States, of colleges and other institutions of higher education which use Hindi as the medium of education should be encouraged.
In 1976, the rules were again verified, but what changed was the Centre’s push
to have government employees fully trained in Hindi so as to accommodate its gradual
strength in government undertakings. Many schemes were organized by the government
into the 1980’s to encourage official language acceleration and the progressive use of
Hindi and regular reviews were undertaken of the various ministries (Bipan, 1989).
Whether this could be done would be tested over time but Mohanty (2017b) suggests
that, “the hierarchy of power relations in respect to languages in multilingual societies
effectively leads to deprivation of many languages in favour of the dominant ones”
leading me to surmise that as Hindi became more and more dominant other languages
would have to accommodate its rise and be sacrificed.
The rivalry between Hindi and English, as national languages and languages of
higher education, unfolded concurrently with efforts to define a coherent education policy
that would cover the earlier years of schooling. The Three Language Formula (TLF) was
proposed as early as 1956 by the Central Advisory Board of Education, and by 1963 had
made its way into directives such as the National Education Policy (NEP) 1963, which
clearly stated that “arrangements should be made in accordance with the formula for the
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study of a modern Indian language, preferably one of the Southern languages, apart
from Hindi and English in the Hindi speaking areas” (NEP, 1963, p.40). The mention of
southern languages like Telegu and Tamil to be included in the Hindi speaking north was
intended as a means of unifying the nation state with a common language policy. The
formula also sought to reduce the vast gulf between the educated and the masses by
enshrining a place for regional languages as required study in the schools and as the
MOI. In various forms the formula has been maintained within the National Policy on
Education (NPE) until the present day.
Aggarwal (1988) suggests that a monolithic language policy for a multilingually
complex and polycultural country like India is both “theoretically unsound and
pragmatically un-implementable” (p. 290). Indeed, in a study undertaken for the National
Council of Educational Research and Training (NCERT by Chatruvedi and Mohale
(1976), the TLF was found to be applied very unevenly in the different regions. The
evidence they gathered included syllabus data from state departments of education both
through visits and a questionnaire with a goal to analyze the exact names and numbers
of languages studied or as MOI, their status as 1st, 2nd, 3rd or 4th languages. They also
looked at the weight assigned to the different languages by using instructional time and
marks assigned to exams. The objectives of the school’s boards and the tools they
assigned for evaluation and the qualifications of language teachers and in-service
training was also investigated. The authors found that some states were giving students
wide choices as to their first, second or third language, regardless of the social or
cultural benefits of the languages. They also suggested that the TLF was not meeting its
goals because of poor instructional methods for the different languages, which should be
a concern to any language policy. These concerns were acknowledged in subsequent
revisions of the NPE, but the policy itself remained essentially unchanged.
The 1992 edition of the NPE summarizes the situation effectively and succinctly:
11. The implementation of the three-language formula has been less than satisfactory. The main deficiencies include the following: (a) all the languages are not being taught compulsorily at the secondary stage; (b) a classical language has been substituted for a modern Indian language in some States; (c) no provision exists for the teaching of South Indian languages for which the formula indicated a preference, in the Hindi speaking States; (d) duration for compulsory study of three languages varies; and (e) competency levels to be achieved by students in respect of each language have not been precisely specified. (NPE, 1992, p. 151).
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12. The effective implementation of the three language formula would require: (a) decision by States, State Boards of Secondary/ School Education, etc. to make the study of three languages compulsory at the secondary stage; (b) prescription of the Class from and the duration for which three languages will be taught; (c) specification of objectives of teaching different languages; and (d) specification of levels of language proficiency to be reached in respect of each language. (NPE, 1992, p. 151)
Thirteen years later, the NCERT’s National Curriculum Framework (2005) stated
that, “the three-language formula needs to be implemented in its spirit, promoting
multilingual communicative abilities for al multilingual country” (p.37). The following
year’s Curriculum Framework for Teacher Education (CFTE) referred to the long history
of education policy planning and acknowledged that while the TLF has been in force
since the 1960’s, its implementation has been mostly inconsistent and varied (CFTE,
2006). The gap between shining ideals and complex realities is exemplified in its call for
the recognition of the teacher “in enabling an empowering education that seeks to bridge
gaps between the child and the adult, the pace of the child and the disciplinary demands
and disparities in terms of gender, regions and linguistic differences” (p.10). The
National Education Policy of 2016 recognized the significance of TLF and asserted, “It is
desirable that school education should be provided through the medium of mother
tongue or regional language, at least till Class V. The choice of the second (at the
primary level) and third language (at the secondary level) should be left to individual
states and local authorities to decide, keeping in view the provisions of the Constitution:
(NEP (2016), p. 188). Yet these reports offer little in the way of measures to improve the
consistency and the 2016 report continues previous refrains by stating that, “There are
deviations in the implementation of TLF in many states and the policy was observed
more in the breach than as a rule” (p. 188). India, it seems, still wants to keep dreaming.
3.3. A critical analysis of India’s language policy
The politically laden ideology behind India’s language policy contributes to
sustaining particular relations of power and domination which permeate and affect many
complex facets of Indian life (a value-based society based on caste, class, religion,
gender, status etc.). In the Indian political arena, the constant struggle for supremacy
between Hindi and English and the other languages of the nation has resulted in an
uneven practice of multilingualism exacerbated by the ongoing neglect of minority
languages whose members do not have access to political power. Even while Hindi was
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not the majority language of the country, it was given official status along with English,
sustaining its powerful hold both as a language of the north and the language of the
dominant Hindu religion. In so doing, India gave notice to all and sundry that as its Hindu
ideology was enmeshed within the language, it would continue to impress upon other
languages both its power and control over education.
LPP research has always considered the backdrop of the kinds of political
participation in how policy decisions are made in democratic nations. By studying the
TLF’s historical development, I am aware of how Fairclough (2003) states that analysing
discourse through textual analysis puts emphasis on the text’s potential impact on
changes in beliefs, attitudes, resulting actions, relationships in society and the material
world for “their effects on power relations” (p.9). It is not just meaning-making of the
ideological text being produced, but also its interpretation and subsequent
implementation that in turn, “take[s] account of the institutional position, interests, values,
intentions, desires etc. of producers, the relations of elements at different levels in texts;
and the institutional positions, knowledge, purposes, values etc. of receivers” (p.11). The
openness of texts to diverse interpretations addresses both the explicit and the implicit
within complex processes of understanding, judgement and evaluation in the post-
independence Indian context.
3.3.1. Hindi and English: rivalry or complicity?
The Westernized elite (most of whom had been educated and groomed by the
British over the centuries) who had led the Indian National Congress in the fight for
Independence had a distinctive approach to language that still forms part of India’s
heritage. Brass, (1974) writes, “Educated in English and emancipated from traditional
religious and caste restrictions, they tried to communicate across linguistic, caste and
religious barriers, often effectively…To overcome religious distinctions, they argued on
behalf of secularism and toleration” (p. 414). But this tradition ran into entrenched
opposition pre- and post-independence. As Brass notes, when it became taboo for
groups to express their demands for political recognition on the basis of religion,
language movements flourished and, in several cases, displaced religious identification
for political reasons” (Brass, 2004, p.354). Hindus, in particular, dominated the economic
life of cities all over India, and the Hindu elite used their narrow, upper caste, socially
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exclusive cultural and linguistic distinctions to ensure Hindi’s long-lasting effect on the
new Republic.
Many Indians practice Hinduism; however, this takes place through various
languages and not necessarily through Hindi or Sanskrit (the language of the spiritual
texts). Nonetheless, the drive for Sanskritized Hindi became an identity marker for Hindu
nationalism. Thus, Independent India’s constitutional goal that Hindi take over from
English as the language between the various states and the Central government
appears now, at least in part, as the accomplishment of zealous Hindi language
proponents driven by power-hungry post-colonial desires. “In addition, the constitution
(Article 343) charged the Union with the duty to promote the spread of Hindi and to
develop it so that it might serve as a medium of instruction for all the elements of the
composite culture of India” (Gupta, 1970, p. 161). The short-sighted and arrogant idea of
a Hindi-mediated composite culture of India drove wedges between and amongst
communities of peoples in a country that valued its long literary and cultural traditions.
In that respect, English as the former colonial language at least has the
advantage of not being implicated in a divisive, ethnically and religiously flavoured
nationalism, but it has its set of issues as a post-colonial language steeped in power and
privilege. The ostensible goal of policy planners from the time of Independence was for
English to slowly be replaced by the regional languages and to assume a subordinate
role, albeit an important one as a library language, and for Hindi to become the linking
language across the country. However, this policy in fact enabled the continuing power
and dominance of English and Hindi speakers to be entrenched in the official
government machinery, while the continuing (and indeed growing) prestige of English
ensured that the regional languages would never come to replace it. Upper class Hindi
speakers claimed that if it became the official language of government, then the
intelligentsia of every state would be forced to learn it, but this too failed to occur and
Hindi continued to take second or third place in non-Hindi speaking regions. By default,
Indians in the south could not get a toehold in bureaucracy since their Hindi was non-
existent or at least not developed enough, allowing the continuing status quo, and the
language in this regard did nothing to contribute to the unity of the nation. On the other
hand, the Three Language Formula encouraged the teaching of southern languages in
Hindi speaking regions but my research has shown that the uptake has been non-
existent. The intent of the policy and its practice are at variance.
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Thus, what on one level appears as a rivalry between Hindi and English for the
position of a national linking language, on another level has worked to cement the
privileges of elites at all levels. The triple hierarchy of regional languages over local
languages and vernaculars, Hindi over regional languages (at least in the central
government), and English over Hindi (especially in those domains most affected by
globalization) fits well with Indian traditions of caste and class, even though it runs
counter to the ideals of the Westernized elite who led the struggle for Independence.
However, in the end they too bowed to the pressures of the religio-linguistic Hindu
majority.
3.3.2. The neglect of minority languages
As we have seen, India’s language planning ideologies were developed by the
northern Indian Hindi-speaking majority of the powerful political elite post-Independence,
and have since been poorly contested by those outside the realms of power. The limited
autonomy of the states (as in Tamil Nadu – a state which refuses to teach Hindi in the
schools) has not, in general, worked in favour of most minority language communities.
State Departments of Education, in particular, often base their decision making on
powerful moral, religious, cultural and educational interests that do not respond to the
needs of the powerless and marginalized. Punjab developed its own language policy in
1967 to mirror the TLF and has since continued to support the language’s use in public
education, but it does only a small amount to support other minority languages in the
state (like Urdu in the Muslim belt). This majority language control in education has been
evident right from the beginning of the post-independence language policy cycle:
During the initial years after gaining independence different expert bodies on education such as the 1948 Central Advisory Board of Education, 1949 University Education Commission and 1956 Official Language Commission put a greater weight on the broad interpretation of mother tongue i.e. regarding all minority languages not having a written tradition as ‘dialects’ of the dominant language in the region. This interpretation amounted to an implicit denial of equal rights to linguistic minorities on the ground of practicability similar to the French view of treating minority languages such as Provençal, Breton and Basque as dialects of the dominant French (Khubchandani, 1997, p. 181).
Mohanty (2010) coins this not so uniquely Indian phenomena as the “double
divide” – that is felt, “between the elitist language of power and the major regional
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languages (vernaculars) and the other, between the regional languages and the
dominated ones” (p. 131).The latter are languages of communities that have traditionally
been under-resourced, and whose power is limited economically, statistically, socially
and politically (rural, tribal, illiterate, small-in-number, etc.). Even in Punjab, where Sikhs
profess to be a casteless society, the Punjabi language holds power over the languages
of migrant workers (from other states with different languages); the latter have no power
to have their vernaculars effectively included in the system. The regional language
dilemma is driven home by Mohanty (2017b) in his study of English’s premier position in
India states that are, “two powerful cleavages: one, between the dominant colonial
language, English at the top of the hierarchy and the major national/regional languages
(The English-Vernacular Divide), and the second, between these national/regional
languages and the Indigenous, Tribal, Minority languages” (p. 268). The Punjab
Language Act is significantly silent on minority languages within its state.
English, of course, adds further weight and complexity to this implicit relationship
between discourse, power and ideology. NCERT’s position paper (2006), as part of its
curricular framework for all studies in the public and private school system, opened with
this statement:
English is in India today a symbol of people’s aspirations for quality in education and a fuller participation in national and international life. Its colonial origins now forgotten or irrelevant, its initial role in independent India, tailored to higher education (as a “library language”, a “window on the world”), now felt to be insufficiently inclusive, socially and linguistically, the current status of English stems from its overwhelming presence on the world stage and the reflection of this in the national arena…The visible impact of this presence of English is that it is today demanded by everyone at the very initial stage of schooling (p.1).
The statement seems to discount the historic positioning of English in the TLF as
a third language in addition to Hindi or a regional language and the mother tongue. The
privileged role of English within the caste or class system of India is glossed over in
favour of a new hegemonic view that reflects values noted by Khubchandani forty years
ago (1978), emphasizing “language privileges, cultural prestige and socio-economic
mobility” (p.14). Scholars such as Biswas (2004), Khubchandani (2004), Canagarajah
(2006) and Mohanty (2010) note how the power and prestige of English undermine the
pedagogically sound commitment to teaching the mother tongue. As an example,
LaDousa’s study from a decade ago, in Banaras, contrasted a teacher’s “disparaging,
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multi-charactered portrait of Hindi-medium students” with “the cachet of English medium
schooling, the growth of which has been facilitated by the Indian government’s policies
of economic liberalization” (LaDousa, 2006, p. 50).
Less obvious, perhaps, is the role of Sanskritized Hindi in the subordination,
absorption and displacement of a multiplicity of local and tribal languages, dialects and
mother tongues after India adopted it as its official language for the Union. For example,
in 1991 the census absorbed forty-eight plus languages and mother tongues into the
heading ‘Hindi’ (Census of India, 1991, C7 part A) – a type of linguicism not seen at this
scale anywhere else in the world. In addition, the standardization and purification of
Hindi (through Sanskritization and the exclusive use of the Devanagari script) has
created an unnatural barrier for Muslim students in India, who now have no access to
the Persian script, resulting in politico-religious rifts (Swamy, 2003; Schiffman, 1996).
And beyond even these divides, there is an issue of accessibility even for native
speakers of the various Hindi dialects and mother tongues, as Das Gupta wrote in 1969:
True to the tradition of traditional India literati, they are developing Hindi in a direction that tends to make the new Hindi a compartmentalized preserve of the Hindi literary elite. Their logic of language development seems to go contrary to the logic of mass literacy, effective access to new groups to the educated communication arena, and to social mobilization of maximum human resources in general (p. 590).
More than thirty years ago, Dua (1985) suggested that LPP in India is impacted
by three fundamentally important issues: 1. How languages have developed in different
stages of the process; 2. How there are such complex differences within languages; 3.
And the very diverse distribution of speakers of the many languages. These issues ring
true today too as critical concerns for India’s language planning and policy. India is in a
constant battle with technological and economic growth as the engine to prosperity, and
the opposing demands for protection of linguistic diversity within complex and intricate
hierarchical social realities of its peoples. From the Official Languages Act of 1963
onwards, language policies have developed under tight control by the Central
government and the only official variance has been the addition of 8 more languages to
Schedule VIII. The Constitution has made no change to Article 343 and has never given
any language the status of national language.
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Crucially important within that diversity are those languages that lack political,
economic or cultural power at the state and national levels, such as the tribal languages.
Tribes in India are a designated category in a schedule within the Constitution, and
officially recognized as historically disadvantaged peoples. While Article 343 enshrines
Hindi and English, and Schedule VIII lays out the 22 regional languages (changes have
occurred between 1992 and 2003), other languages (some with more than a million
speakers) have no constitutional protection or support. The700 strong scheduled tribal
population constitutes about 8.6 percent of India’s total population, residing in the larger
underdeveloped parts of the country with about 93% involved in agriculture in rural
areas. However, rapid urbanization and increasing land development projects in mining
are creating great pressures on the small land bases they occupy (some as landless
labourers). Some of the major problems faced by the tribal populations include denial of
schooling in mother tongue, a poor response to education and high attrition rates of
students, gainful and sustained employment for adults, deforestation of their lands,
scarcity of water, low agricultural yields, exploitation, debt, displacement and migration
impacting resettlement and rehabilitation and a loss of identity, etc. (Paltasingh &
Paliwal, 2014; Pandharipande, 2002; Nambisan, 1994). While language policy
statements have routinely attempted to address issues related to tribal languages, the
larger marginalized position of tribal communities has hindered social processes to
mitigate their growing vulnerability. The inevitable question about why government
planning processes do not address these issues can be answered in part because top
down planning suggests that languages have to be developed in order to them to be
included in new functions, creating an impossible task for under-resourced and
undervalued minority languages (Mohanty, 2017b).
3.3.3. Multilingualism in education
Article 350A in the Constitution of India calls for instruction in mother-tongue at
primary stage (Indian Constitution, n.d. – see Appendix D):
It shall be the endeavour of every State and of every local authority within the State to provide adequate facilities for instruction in the mother-tongue at the primary stage of education to children belonging to linguistic minority groups; and the President may issue such directions to any State as he considers necessary or proper for securing the provision of such facilities p. 177).
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But I would suggest that when languages have been excluded from the domains
of power like education, trade, law and statutory use, etc. their chances of growth and
development are severely restricted. Minority or marginalized language communities do
not have the social standing or training to negotiate and resist the status quo, further
marginalizing their positions due to a historically accepted past. The social inequalities
(caste, class, status etc.) present in the system and in India generally undermine the
capacity of linguistic minorities to claim their own rights.
In 1966, the Report of the Education Commission suggested that in order for
education to adopt the regional languages of the area, they must adopt them as the
media of instruction at the University stage as well. The Union government agreed in
1967 that regional languages would be developed at all stages and in all subjects. “In
announcing the decision, the Minister for Education declared that the government was
convinced that this was the only way to mobilize the creative energies of the people, to
raising the standard of education, and to bridge the wide gulf that separated the elite
from the masses in India” (Gupta, 1970, p. 251-252).
These aspirations remained as such until today. There is little understanding that
impoverishment of regional languages (by design/policy) at the school level would first
need be addressed by people in power by creating larger scope of development for
these weaker and disadvantaged languages before higher education could be held
accountable. After the July 1966 Report of the Education Commission, thirty seven
universities swiftly implemented written examinations in regional languages listed in the
eighth schedule of the Constitution (Assamese, Bengali, Bodo, Dogri, Gujarati, Hindi,
Kannada, Kashmiri, Konkani, Maithili, Malayalam, Manipuri, Marathi , Nepali, Odia,
Punjabi, Sanskrit, Santhali, Sindhi, Tamil ,Telugu ,Urdu). However, only small amounts
of financial support came from the Union to prepare text books in the regional language
and for the general development of these languages. This is but one example of the half-
hearted approach to multilingual education in India.
It is indicative of the failure of a language policy driven by political ideologies that
after more than seven decades, even today in India there is a three-tiered hierarchical
language system (Mohanty, 2010b) and that the very same policy continues to exist in
the face of ongoing and growing inequity. For example, in private schools English has
continued to gain favour as the language of higher education and commerce at the top
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rung, and Hindi has maintained a tenuous hold as the preferred language in Hindi-
speaking states at the middle rung with other (perhaps even foreign) languages making
up the third tier (Mohanty, 2010b). There is so much ambiguity in the policy that states
like Punjab have created their own (TLF complimentary) language policies which have
given them regional language rights that supersede Hindi and the mother tongue of the
region has become the MOI in government schools as in the case of Punjab.
Meganthan (2011) reports that there are 75 different educational languages in
the country (p. 26), out of which 31 are used as MOI – half of what was used in 1980. It
is also disappointing that marginalized and minority languages that have few speakers
and are mostly rurally bound have been neglected or relegated to beyond the bottom
tier. The disdain and cultural disregard for tribal languages for example is commonly
understood and mostly acceptable as an attitude in educational institutions and the
public arena. Mohanty et al (2010) assert that, “Though politically indigenous languages
have been given rhetorical support to symbolize national identities, English has
established itself as the language of power often benefiting from internal conflicts
between competing linguistic assertions” (p.211).
The Union’s recognition of ongoing systemic structural hierarchical differences in
a society like India, gives full evidence of how some language speakers have access to
power and privilege while others are truly marginalized and disadvantaged. Mohanty
(2008) claims that this policy-rich but practice-shy tiered system leads to education
failure, as minority linguistic groups never get the chance to show their capability in their
language(s) – describing India’s multilingualism as a “multilingualism of the unequals”
(Mohanty, 2004). Mohanty (2010b) suggests that, “Language maintenance in the
hierarchical multilingualism in India involves marginalization, domain shrinkage, identity
crisis, deprivation of freedom and capability, education failure (due to inadequate home
language development and forced submersion in majority language schools) and
poverty “(p.138).
In the current moment, the National Curriculum Framework of the National
Council of Educational Research and Training (NCERT) strongly promotes mother
tongue education, but state practices largely do not support its intent, while the private
system responds to an entirely different set of values. Private schools in India that cater
to the rich and powerful are “distinctly westernized in school practices and classroom
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teaching” (Mohanty et al, 2010, p. 216). While private schools largely utilize English as
the formal language of teaching and learning (MOI), almost all government schools
teach it only as a language subject. The elite of India (both in the north and south – pre
and post- Independence) who have always been highly educated prefer English medium
education as an upward mobility tool for job opportunities, “in higher administration,
global corporations, international institutions and colleges and universities abroad”
(Brass, 2004, p.356-7), They regularly disparage acquisition of the vernacular, inculcate
linguistic narcissism and in so doing retain and maintain upper class power.
The economic choices afforded to children educated in English MOI private
schools is well recognized and quite uncritically accepted in Indian society. Brass (2002)
suggests that many factors affect language acquisition, foremost among them “social
and economic opportunities provided by different language choices, government
discrimination or acceptance, and intensity of communal religious conflict” (p.362). The
relationship between English and the vernacular is also socially constructed, with those
students that have access to English in the home/community having greater advantage
over those that do not. As the economically advantaged powerfully privileged English-
speaking elite continue to send their children to English medium schools, then the TLF is
seen as simply a political declaration and its mandate to encourage regional language
learning does not really affect the chances of success (and continued power/privilege)
for their children.
Having critically explored the background to the language planning and policy
issues in India, what comes to the fore is that these processes have not been able to
accomplish what they set out to do. The official languages have been unable to fulfill
their mandate post-Independence to unify the country politically, socially, culturally or
linguistically. While acknowledging the complexity governing the question of languages
in India, status, associated privilege and power continue to challenge the egalitarian
quest of the framers of the Constitution in 1949. In this very public text the formal
declarations of status, role and standing of languages are clearly delineated providing
the most decisive and authoritative source for planning purposes. The intent and
symbolic text provided both political accommodation and a partial response to societal
reality as a result of public discourse: debates, arguments and discussions in post-
independence India. The declaration of the role and standing of languages in the
Constitution of India reflects the relationships of Indian languages within a polity. India’s
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national-level language planning processes include discourse involving political rhetoric,
interests, and communal ideologies which have influenced state planning and policy.
The movement of language planning to language usage is part of a continuum from
public discourse informing public texts to action that influences language itself. It is this
dynamic relationship between language planning and policy and its implementation that
takes me from historic legacy to current goals and jurisdictions of State policymakers.
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Methodology
4.1. Critical Discourse Analysis and language planning and policy
This study is inspired and guided by the tradition of critical discourse analysis
(CDA). I wanted to study the way language planning and policy is constructed within a
wide variety of unequal social relationships as a socio-cultural practice in India. I was
interested in the tensions between state and civil society actors (Heller, 2018),
consequences for social groups (Papen, 2001) and the unexpected problems associated
with implementation within the language policy cycle (Canagarajah, 2006). I see this
critical analysis of India’s language polices (and especially their implications for
education) as both important and useful, partially due to the recent shift of LPP
becoming more engaged with “globalization and late modern conditions such as
increasing mobilities and the heteroglossia of social life” (Tollefsen & Pérez-Milans,
2018).
By necessity, texts occupy a central position in language policy and the language
curriculum. Rogers (2011) work in discourse analysis of educational research suggests,
“Educational practices are considered communicative events; it therefore stands to
reason that discourse analysis would be useful to analyze the ways in which the texts,
and other semiotic interactions that learning comprises are constructed over time and
contexts” (p. 1). In a positivist-empiricist understanding of text as discourse, the text is
considered to be a repository of knowledge and understanding that is embraced by the
discipline. Critical theoretical analyses suggest, however, that “meaning does not reside
in a text, but in the writing or reading of it…. meanings are often contradictory and
always socially embedded” (Hodder, 1994, p. 394).
The ideologies of social institutions are laden by language (Wodak, 2015) and
Gal (2006) defines language ideologies as, “cultural ideas, presumptions, and
presuppositions with which different social groups name, frame and evaluate linguistic
practices” (p. 13). I am interested in the kinds of privilege attached to language which is
a theme in most linguistic analysis and the discriminatory paradoxes inherent in
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discourse (us and them), generalizations and the complex exclusionary practices in the
socio-political discourses. I see discourse as a theoretical concept to study power
structures, dominance and inequalities that are, “enacted, reproduced, and resisted by
text and talk in social and political contexts” (can Dijk, 2004, p. 352). The reproduction of
ideology in language is central to my understanding of discourse analysis. Does
language (in policy) include/exclude certain groups and does it represent its historical
structural ideology?
I am interested in “a type of discourse analytical research that primarily studies the way social power, abuse, dominance and inequality are enacted, reproduced and resisted by text and talk in the social and political content” (Van Dijk, 2001, p.352). In this case, the inequitable relationships might be between nation and state, policy actor and the polity, teacher and student, etc. Drawing on the discourse-historical approach of Reisigl and Wodak (2015), which examines how semiotic structures and material institutions shape and influence each other, I set out to understand the “mechanisms of coercion and consent’ (Wodak & Meyer, 2009, p. 7) within India’s educational language planning and policy, especially as they relate to the “diversity of the social spaces involved in their construction and the plurality of actors that contribute to them” (Wodak and Savski, 2018, p. 95).
In India, nationally promulgated language policies are steeped in colonial, geo-
political hierarchies and cultural traditions. In this manner it is critically important for me
as a researcher to understand the historical perspectives that traditionally essentialize
language planning and policy, placing them beyond critique, as a form of discursive
hegemony exercised by those who have power over those that have to work very hard to
achieve it (McLaren, 2016).
Fairclough’s (2003) three level analysis of critical discourse allowed me to
include texts, discourse practices and discursive events for data collection, analysis and
results in an attempt to analyze the production and reception of texts that are
ideologically shaped by relations of power. For Fairclough the micro, meso and macro
levels of analysis considers textual/linguistic analysis (micro), issues of production and
consumption (meso), and the very broad social dilemmas affecting the text (macro).
Within this study, a focus on the politics of language policy development and
implementation beyond the texts themselves provides a wider understanding of
language policy and planning.
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My approach was to analyse the historical-political framing of language planning
and policy in India pre- and post-Independence, and its continuous effect and outcomes
in one province (Punjab) to the current day. For a better understanding of the
institutional contexts within which language policy is situated, I focused specifically on
the Ministry of Education in Punjab. This allowed me to critically investigate how India’s
Three Language Formula is being carried into language policy frameworks, in a province
in India where India’s two dominant languages of Hindi and English are secondary to a
minority one in the language policy framework of the state. This study illustrates how a
historically situated language policy is discursively and ideologically framed by the
central government’s political environment, while its production and consumption takes
place through directives mediated by policy actors in the state of Punjab. Ministry
officials at the state level are charged with implementing a language policy that is
steeped in socio-political history and subject to the bureaucratic processes assigned to
policy implementation.
The research questions that guide this study include understanding the tension
between language policy and planning and the institutions as discursive spaces for
policy implementation. To support my questions, I agree with Wodak’s (1995) claims that
three concepts “figure indispensably in all critical discourse analysis: the concept of
power, the concept of history and the concept of ideology” (p 151). CDA allows for the
interpretation and explanation of power differentials while moving forward from detailed
textual analysis. I recognize also that, “there is a paradox that exists within any institution
between the structural constraints that enable its existence and the agency of individuals
acting within it” (Wodak & Savski, 2018, p. 96).
Fairclough (2001) models an analytical framework that I employ for the analysis
of my research in this study (p. 125-127):
1. Focus on the social problem which has a semiotic aspect: language policies that are
impacted by socio-political (beliefs) forces of the nation-state and the resources
necessary to tackle the problems associated with the practice.
2. An analysis of the dominant and influential ways of interacting, ways of using language
in interaction (institutions e.g. State Legislatures, Boards of education, schools, the
classroom) and the obstacles therein:
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1. The network of practices it is located within
2. The relationship of semiosis to the elements within the particular practices(s)
concerned
3. The discourse (the semiosis itself)
• Structural analysis: the order of discourse • Interactional analysis • Interdiscursive analysis • Linguistic and semiotic analysis
3. Consider whether the social order (network of practices) in a sense ‘needs’ the
problem: does the ideology behind the language policy contribute to sustaining
particular relations of power and domination.
4. Identify possible ways past the obstacles: positive critical identification of social
change to close the gaps or failures within the domination of the social order (mother
tongue’s position vis-a-vis the hegemony of English or English/Hindi) or showing
difference and resistance.
5. Reflect critically on the analysis (1-4): how effective is the critique? Does it contribute
to social emancipation or is the analysis compromised due to the research positioning?
4.2. Data collection
My field work for this study was located in the region of Mohali in the province of
Punjab in northwest India. The state’s Board of Education is located not in the capital
city of Chandigarh, but rather in Mohali which is the adjoining city to the larger
metropolis. I chose this particular state because of my own linguistic-cultural identity and
my interest in the linguistic inheritance of my children. My early research and prior
knowledge indicated that it is a region of India where the linguistic quotient of public
education meets the intent and purpose and mandate of the Three Language Formula.
As well, my fluency in the Punjabi vernacular (and Hindi –which is just as necessary)
with officials, and ability to read and translate the relevant documents, were significant
assets. I understood the governance model of bureaucratic hierarchy in the Ministry of
Education to be fairly well developed in response to the State’s free public-school
system. Publicly funded education in Punjab (like other states) is available for all children
under the Right to Education Act and the State Board that has the responsibility to
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oversee the education is managed by senior career bureaucrats who are part of the
Indian Civil Service (Punjab cadre). Officials within the Board’s departments are
delegated responsibilities that fulfill various education policy demands.
Since research on public policy is part of the public domain, and there is no
reasonable expectation of privacy concerns, I did not have to undergo ethics review (as
per SFU’s ethics mandate – R20.01, article 7.8). My study is of the discourse in policy
directive documents as issued by the State of Punjab for public school education – thus,
In order to undertake fieldwork, I familiarized myself with the structure of the Punjab
Ministry of Education and within it the Punjab School Education Board (PSEB) by
studying the government bureaucratic system. I spent eight months in the region over
the course of a year, and in the initial stage, made formal introductions to the Ministry’s
Principal Secretary and successfully obtained permission to meet with the Director of
Education at the Punjab Ministry of Education and with bureaucrats responsible for
language policy implementation within the Board offices. The Director further kindly
informed the language policy division that I had received his consent and that the
officials could share the policy directive documents for my perusal at a mutually
convenient time. I explained that the individuals themselves were not the focus of the
research, as I was collecting only the documents related to language policy
implementation directives that Ministry officials develop and not their perspectives or
insights on the texts. The documentary data was well preserved within the Ministry and
access to online and hard copies of policy directive texts were made available for the
purpose of my research.
Since I am studying Punjab’s policy system and focusing on understanding its
relatability/complementarity to India’s national framework, Punjab’s policy arena was
fertile ground to find answer to my research questions. One-way management practices
can be understood is by analyzing policy texts that are influenced by the socio-historic
struggle of language rights in the Punjab. The inequities present in the state’s socio-
linguistic needs are also analysed using a textual analysis. I am interested in analyzing
how the hegemonic influence of English is combatted by a heavily bureaucratized and
centralized policy system that guards the public-school system.
I visited Punjab’s Ministry of Education offices regularly at pre-appointed times to
study the texts developed by language policy planners, curriculum theorists and
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bureaucrats, in order to familiarize myself with the directives that mediate the language
policy regime. I was seeking knowledge of the connections between language policy and
language education in Punjabi as those are fostered through top down policy planning
and discourses that in turn are driven by powerful actors within the ecological
environment (linguistic, economic, social, cultural and natural).
The various bureaucrats produce about 20 to 40 policy directives (called
circulars) every month that address various areas from staffing requirements to
decisions on compensation to school syllabi. I studied these circulars every month for
eight months to undertake textual analysis of the nature of directives and their
application. I observed that policy actors were busy in their offices every day, meeting
with each other in designing directives that met both national and state goals to ensure
Punjabi MOI thrives within the public system. I was told to wait for directives as they
were being crafted and only had access to them once they were posted on the SSA
website. No drafts or intermediate communication were shared with me and I worked to
analyse the final directives to understand their relevance to this study. The policy actors
got used to my presence in anticipation of a directive that would be posted and although
I did not ask for their insights, they were generally congenial, friendly and kind to my
presence. The PSEB policy directives are an integral part of the authority of the Board
officials who take seriously the responsibility and function of issuing circulars with
regularity.
Upon receiving the texts, I first and foremost set to translating the formal part of
the policy directives into English for ease of reference. This took the longest time and
while I am fluent in Punjabi, the academic nature of the language required some getting
used to. . I translated and deliberated on 182 of the policy texts and further analyzed 21
in order to critically examine the language and textual imperatives as they related to
language planning and policy. The texts were developed by senior policy actors in
Punjabi with the final authority (signature) resting with the Directors of the Board. The
circulars were extremely varied in their content signifying the broad range of authority
within the Board. It was clearly evident that language policy texts were particularly
defined along and supported by national and state policy frameworks. While translating
the texts, I did find that the Punjabi texts had a stronger linguistic presence (original
language) and something was lost in the translation.
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Some semiotic influences to my time were the all-encompassing Punjabi
language presence. All signs, posts, documents and office paraphernalia (needing
instruction) were in the Punjabi language and even my phone calls were responded to
with a greeting and conversations in Punjabi. All these indicated to me a strong
designated promotion of linguistic meaning-making for all that entered/worked at the
PSEB offices. Most of my oral communication with anyone in the offices was in Punjabi
and it was strangely comforting to know that my diasporic position had not weakened my
linguistic acceptance in Punjabi at the Board offices.
My initial analysis revealed that each circular had been vetted through many
official processes before being posted on the Depart of School Education’s website and
forwarded to the district authority or school. I noted the multiple signatures and dates
that were attached to the document for transparency sake to signify its importance and
weight. Each circular’s announcement on the Department’s website was in English but
the circular itself (digitized document) was (almost) always in Punjabi with only a few
exceptions in English for relevant information related to Grade 11 and 12 or syllabus.
From my observations, I noted that all circulars were heavily bureaucratized with multiple
signatures of authorities, many dates of approval for enactment and final authorization
and many authorities c.c.’d on the documents and were forwarded to a large range of
authorities – all encompassing.
The Punjabi language used was highly academic, very formal and devoid of any
grammatical errors, indicating a strong preference that it was targeting an educated
audience (education authorities) and was intended for a singularly targeted linguistic
audience as well. This policy directive method assumes the audience is fluent in formal
Punjabi as the PSEB hiring policy precludes any teacher or authority to join the PSEB
without the perquisite knowledge of Punjabi. While its intended audience may have full
and relatively easy access to the directives, policy actors do not include ways to allow
the documents to reach a whole stakeholder group who may not have the perquisite
language skills – e.g. the parents of schools going children. It is assumed that further
direction to any stakeholder as needed would be provided by education authorities
through other various means of communication.
Policy directives that I analyzed also almost always provided the legal framework
(POLA, RTE Act, Court decisions etc.) from which they were influenced or created,
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again indicating the strength of bureaucratic power and hierarchy, leaving little room for
ambiguity. Jurisdiction seemed to be an important matter in all directives with much
attention to detail about who developed the directive and under what rule and
circumstance(s), at what date and with whose authority (law or person). None of the
documents provided any opportunity or leeway for input or further direction as strongly
worded language clearly elucidated as to how and when and through whom the directive
came into force. It was abundantly obvious that those making the directives were clearly
acting on behalf of the higher authority and that the directions were to be followed by the
intended audience without question. No direct feedback responses were indicated in any
of the policy circulars.
In a country like India where bureaucracy is rampant and red tape is something
everyone is used to and expects, the highly formal and academic language in these
circulars did not come as a surprise to me, although I feel there is room for a simpler,
more gently inclusive manner of language execution. I was pleasantly impressed that
circulars were also proactive notices of instruction for education officials with effort made
to keep them abreast with all policy directives in a timely manner, regardless of how the
approval processes (as indicated by the numerous signed approval dates) took months
to reach final execution.
I also invested time in studying the socio-historical textual record of India’s
language planning and policy as part of my analytical process, in order to understand the
macro, meso and micro contexts that shape the formulation and implementation of local
policy directives. With regard to Fairclough’s first point in his 2001 framework, I studied
the political, historical and social contexts in Punjab in terms of the status planning of
language policies – in this case within the Three Language Formula policy framework
and the historical development of the Punjab Official Languages Act. According to
Corson (1990), “A national policy on languages is a set of nationally agreed principles
which enable decision makers to make choices about language issues in a rational,
comprehensive and balanced way. It should form the basis for the allocation of
resources for language programmes to suit the interests of all members of the
community” (p. 157). My approach was to analyze the historical records/debates/policy
briefs/commission reports etc. as to whose interests were in fact being served, by what
policy choices, and according to what rationales and motivations.
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With regard to Fairclough’s (2001) second point, in order to gain qualitative
content analysis of policy planning and implementation, I employed depth interviews that
were guided by an open-ended questionnaire to bureaucrats (state actors) who
implement state policies. In a semi-structured format, the questions sought insight into
the technical directions informing the respondent’s responses (Brinkman, 2014). Meeting
and interviewing persons with the knowledge I needed for analysis over a period of time
allowed me to understand the multidimensional nature of LPP as a policy system, and to
apply CDA to existing directives within the language policy frameworks. While focused
on education (i.e. government schools), these policies are governed and mediated by
sociopolitical forces of the state. The policy planners are persons at the Ministry at an
appropriately senior level who are responsible for the TLF official policy and the Punjab
Language Act, 2008 (see Appendix A). They fulfill the functionality of the policies by
assisting with the development of the policy’s vision, and by undertaking specific
initiatives towards compliance with the policy and its associated directives and
standards.
The bureaucrats were willing to undertake the interviews once personal contact
was made through the proper authorities as described above. The hierarchical nature of
their positions was entrenched in strong codes of conduct which in turn elicited varying
responses, from very engaged to minimally interested persons. As Cataldi (2018) points
out, often “in-depth interviews are characterized by a ping-pong between the two
subjects involved, in order to better investigate and understand the emergent
information” (p. 310). In such interactions, two active partners are involved in “meaning-
making-work” (Marshall & Rossman, 1989; Fishman, 2003; Miller, & Crabtree, 2004;
Patton, 2005; Boeije, 2010; Cataldi, 2018), which in this case was directed at the macro,
meso and micro contexts operating in the state Board of Education in Punjab. The
dynamics of emic interaction between the subject and the researcher was relational,
both in terms of knowledge sharing and representation, and hence varied with the
people involved. I took notes and wrote up the conversations afterwards and if needed
checked back with the informants by phone to confirm facts.
While I brought my own western ideology framed standards to the fieldwork
process, including time (being punctual) and the functioning of the interview (without
interruptions), I did not always find it the case that the Indian subject willingly conformed
to my expectations. In fact, some of them made no excuses for their tardiness or
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singularly unfocused unavailability, and I realized that so it should be, since I was in their
territory and had to stake out my own needs with cross-cultural awareness, care and
understanding. This was only a slight issue, nothing that could not be surmounted with
patience. The interviews with bureaucrats were nonetheless enlightening, as I sought to
understand language policy directives (with the TLF in particular) around language
access, utilization, the unevenness of linguistic power, and implementation of a minority
language as the MOI.
While the work of language policy planners was critically important to my study, it
was also vital to understand the socio-cultural, socio-political and socio-historical
contexts of LPP in Punjab. An analysis of government documents that detailed the
history (evolution) of the language policies was also undertaken to assist with meaning-
making of socio-political events (from independence from colonial rule to self-
government). In support of this, it was important to conduct a documentary analysis of
the three competing views in India’s history of language management, in terms of
“recognition of the importance of indigenous languages, acceptance and the value of
mother tongue education and the desire to establish a national language for political
unity” (Spolksy, 2009, p.157).
Accordingly, I undertook research to study policy documents at the National
Archives in New Delhi and Chandigarh, Punjab. My goal was to locate literature on the
policy frameworks of India like the National Policy on Education, 1968, 1986, 1992,
2005, 2016, India’s Three Language Formula 1948, 1952, 1968, the Official Languages
Act of 1963,1967, Official Languages Rules 1976,1987, Punjab Official Language Act
1960, 1967, 2008, Official Languages in the Indian Constitution (Sections), the National
Curriculum Frameworks of 1975,1988, 2000, 2005 (NCERT), the various Reports of the
Commissioner of Linguistic Minorities of India, etc.. The analysis of India’s documentary
evidence of language policies over the last seventy plus years is developed from
studying the historic succession of documents and the consecutive actions of policy
makers as they mediated changes and as new iterations were directed and enforced.
Scollon & Scollon (2001), in their analysis of discourse and intercultural
communication, suggest that “In most analysis of discourse as text, the analysis seeks to
position itself as well as the discourse being studied within a broader sociocultural and
historical context” (p. 27). In my investigation, as patterns with policy documents
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emerged, relationships to language planning, hegemonic and powerful socio-political
influences and relevant linguistic policy context were discovered and I looked for links to
cultural/social and political situations. Just as Fairclough (2001) suggests that
interactional analysis “shows how the ‘new economic order’ is constructed textually as
an inevitable fact of life” (p.133), I was interested in how the language order in India is
similarly rendered unquestionable. At the same time, the goal of my analysis was to take
this study from what ‘is’ to what ‘ought’ to be, identifying possible ways to address the
inequities in language planning and policy that is shaped by powerful bases, continuing
to affect marginalized individuals and groups.
An important question is whether a critical theory perspective and critical
discourse analysis as a methodology together adequately address the central concerns
in the areas I am investigating – for example, the primacy of English in post-colonial
nations like India. Barker and Galasinski (2001) state that CDA as a theory provides “the
potential for a systematic/repeatable insight into the linguistic form capable of unravelling
social practice” (p. 25). However, critical theory takes us further, as it points to prior
histories and the hard questions about how these histories were produced; it further asks
who speaks for whom in the constantly changing society in which we work. My work
sees discourse as a domain of social struggle, relative to ideological and political
contexts; its goal is social transformation through changing power relations tied to
institutional practices and knowledges. In this regard, Van Dijk (2001) suggests that CDA
helps us to focus on social problems “and on the role of discourse in the production and
reproduction of power abuse or domination” (p. 96), with emphasis on the need, “for a
broad, diverse, multidisciplinary and problem-oriented CDA” (p.97).
Ultimately, I gathered research evidence by studying the kinds of directives made
by policy makers/language planners in Punjab, and by examining the continuing
influence of the historical record of India’s and Punjab’s language planning and policy
implementation. Although the majority of my research was undertaken in English, in my
field work I used English, Punjabi and Hindi and easily interacted with policy documents
that were written in English, Hindi and Punjabi. I realise that having that linguistic
capability and fluidity made the research process that much smoother and easier to
navigate. In India, the average person moves between at least three languages quite
easily and this was true in all my interactions in Delhi and in Punjab with policy actors.
What is ironic for this study is that within critical discourse analysis, the hegemony of
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English continues; the leading theorists, although not Anglophone (Bourdieu, Foucault,
Wodak), gained international recognition only once their work was translated into
English. “In this respect, there is dramatic irony that the work of critical discourse
researchers is published exclusively in English” (Norton, 1997, p. 213).
CDA questions the inherent power of the researcher since positions of power and
inequalities are being investigated. I am aware of the ethical concerns of a potential
Western-centric, orientalist and hegemonic stance involved in challenging the unequal
power relationships in another country, albeit one that was my birth country. In the post-
colonial setting of India, I am deeply aware that some latent issues of the colonial
mindset continue to exist; western ideals are still idealized and the position of a western
researcher is sometimes given a higher level of credence. Indeed, I am aware that many
of my privileges and affiliations influenced the undertaking of this study, but I am careful
to not let it impact any analysis. For example, I am a product of India’s social/political
history and culture and this gave me an advantage in my investigation as an insider, yet
I am also an outsider with real privilege of a western affiliation. My affinity with my
mother tongue and studying it through CDA is in itself a political act, as I seek to
“interrupt” how LPP is understood and acted upon in Punjab by attempting to foreground
historic domination and inequality inherent in the politics of language. These factors
undoubtedly helped to shape the study; however, I am confident that the policy histories,
situations and processes it describes would be accessible to other researchers as well,
and to a considerable extent its findings and conclusions are intersubjectively validated.
Ethical concerns for me included ensuring a non-judgemental ability (staying
critically open minded) to analyze truth claims within historic political policy texts that are
laden with their own values and how I critique them against values of justice, equality
and liberty. If there is any activism within the methods I employ, I want to ensure that
they reflect emancipatory goals for language rights within the social realities of Punjab.
In my study, policy actors undertake courses of action to develop directives in response
to national and state language policies, providing access to a critical analysis of how
power positions itself in language planning and policy. To analyse the powerful position
Fairclough & Fairclough (2018) suggest how ethical values need to be included in the
research: “what values are arguers (e.g. politicians) arguing from? What are the values
that CDA analysts are espousing, from the perspective of which they are evaluating the
arguments of those arguers? What are the values of other critics (including critics of
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CDA)”? (p.3). As a researcher any biases I may hold towards my own mother tongue
(Punjabi) and its status in Punjab were put to the test as I sought to understand whose
interests the language policies serve and how positions of power and privilege continue
to maintain the status quo.
.
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Punjabi and Punjab – language policy development and implementation
5.1. Punjab and Punjabi: an introduction
With the historical and political struggles over language in independent India as a
backdrop, this chapter now turns to Punjab in an investigation of language planning and
policy at the state level. For this study I met with various bureaucrats in the Punjab
Ministry of Education who were responsible for managing associated language policy
standards, planning mechanisms and issuing directives (Appendix A), and also
extensively reviewed documents in Punjabi, Hindi and English with a bearing on the
management of language in the government and in schools. Drawing on Fairclough’s
three-dimensional frameworks of language texts, discourse practices and discursive
events, I sought to reveal the complex historical, political and cultural forces at play at
the macro and micro level (federal and state), and thereby to understand the ecology of
languages in Punjab and the role of policy actors and agents that implement language
policy directives.
Although in Punjab the regional language is not a minority language
(numerically), it is inextricably affected by interaction with the other major languages of
India, the political and social environment and the geo-political threats that are ever
present by virtue of being an Indian frontier state (the Punjab state frontiers with
historically hostile Pakistan). Hindi and Urdu function alongside Punjabi as vernaculars
of the region generally and in concentrated pockets both as the language of
communities and of study. As an example, the Nawab Sher Mohammad Khan Institute
of Advanced Studies in Urdu, Persian and Arabic is part of Punjabi University, Patiala
and is named after one of the founders of the only Muslim majority state of Malerkotla
(which is now a district in Punjab and where Urdu is the third language in Punjabi MOI
schools. Bigelow’s (2011) study on memory making by minorities in India, speaks to the
ability of the Muslim population in Malerkotla to continue to co-exist peacefully in post-
partition Punjab, partly because they have kept their collective past and identity alive
through a “mnemotechnical project that produces a collective identity based on
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inclusiveness and interreligious peace” (p. 375). But it is not that simple to co-exist as
minority languages and this study strives to understand the heavily laden political
machinery that is dedicated to language rights for Punjabi at the cost of giving second
and third class consideration to other vibrant languages of the region.
In his extensive study of language, religion and politics in northern India, Paul
Brass (1974) makes a very important statement, “only the Punjabi speaking Sikhs in the
north have been able to withstand the trend towards linguistic assimilation in north India
to the extent of achieving dominance for themselves and for the Punjabi language in a
territorially demarcated political unit” (p.277). This unique situation means that Punjab
cannot be taken to be representative of other states in the Indian federation. On the
other hand, many social and linguistic factors are shared with other states, including the
political and economic dominance of English and Hindi in India to which Punjab cannot
be totally immune. Issues confronted in Punjab generally have resonance in other
regions as well.
A fertile state located on a great alluvial plain in northwest India, Punjab takes its
name from the five rivers, Beas, Chenab, Jhelum, Ravi and Sutlej which flowed through
undivided Punjab before land partition in 1947: Punj (five) and ab (body of water).
Today, according to the 2011 Census of India, Punjab is one of 29 Indian states with a
population of 33,124,726 and covering a total area of 50,362 sq. km. Forming 2.29% of
India’s population, it has a growth rate of 13.89%, below the national average of 17.64%.
The literacy rate in Punjab stands at 75.84 %, an increase in the last decade from
69.65%. Sikhs make up about half the population with 16,004,754, Hindus another third
at 10,678,138, while Muslims (535,489), Christians (348,230), Jains (45,040), Buddhists
(33,237) and other religions make up the rest (Census of India, 2011). As indicated in
the earlier table, 92.2% of the population speaks Punjabi.
The large amount of arable land in this plain has always afforded the area an
agricultural economy, with a fertile old alluvium that is perfect for growing wheat.
Concentration of urban and industrial areas occurred only in advantageous locations in
flood free tracts of land. Massive internal migration to Punjab occurred in the colonial
period from 1886-1947, in response to the canalization of land to meet the imperial
needs of wheat and cotton and to raise animals needed in the police and army. Powerful
caste groups, “such as the Jats and Rajputs, partook the better-quality land while the
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less productive areas were left to be shared by the weaker ones such as the Arains and
the Gujjars” (Krishan, 2004, p. 79). Since Independence, migration to big cities from
villages has been on the upswing, and this process of urbanization has contributed to
the dilution of traditional languages and the intermingling of castes and classes of
peoples.
Punjabi is an Indo-Aryan language spoken mostly in its traditional homeland, how
divided between the northwest of India and eastern Pakistan. According to Ethnologue
(2017, 20th edition) there are 122 million speakers worldwide - with 92 million in
Pakistan, 28 million in India and 2 million living in the various diaspora countries. Punjabi
has four major dialects: Majhi, Malwai, Doabi, and Powadhi – with Majhi considered to
be the standard form of the Punjabi language and the only dialect that is spoken both in
India and Pakistan. Malwai is the dialect of people who live in the central and southern
part of Indian Punjab; Doabi is spoken in the land between the two rivers Beas and
Sutlej; while Powadhi is spoken in the lower hill ranges of the north facing the Sivalik
Hills. In such a small region the internal diversity of the language, both in the written, oral
and formal forms, is quite varied (Kaur, Singh and Kaur, 2017). It is often quoted that the
language changes every 100 miles in India and this is true in Punjab too, with many sub-
dialects across the urban and rural language landscape.
Punjabi is a complex old language with a ‘high variety’ (written, formal), based on
an extensive history in literature and in urban settings, and a range of ‘low varieties’
based on local vernaculars, mostly in the oral tradition, which continue to some extent in
the rural landscape. My personal experiences with the Punjabi language are with
Malwai/urban (patrilineal), Doabi/rural (after marriage) and schooled Punjabi. While there
is fluency in my repertoire, it requires getting used to the variety of high and low contexts
and the standardized language taught in school. As Brass (1974) states, “The regional
standard of Punjabi which is taught in the schools is, of course, different from many of
the regional Punjabi dialects, but there is not among the Punjabi speakers anything
comparable to the caste distinctions which exist among Maithili speakers” (Brass, 1974,
p.406). However, when a large gap exists between the local vernacular and the standard
language, this can pose difficulties for literacy (Srivastava, 1978), and this may be an
issue in some areas of Punjab.
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There is also a serious political complexity of being one of the 22 languages with
official language status in India, spoken by a cultural and religious minority in a small
region. Punjabi culture and its concomitant language have always dominated state
politics of Punjab (Brass, 2005) and the Punjabi communities of Punjab (where the
majority of Punjabis are Sikhs) practice a particular kind of traditional, linguistic, cultural
and ethnic Punjabi ethos (punjabiyat) within which the language (in Gurmukhi script) has
taken precedence as an identity marker. The language of the gurus (Sikh
masters/teachers whose teachings are inscribed in the holy text) has been one of the
three critical identity markers for Sikhs, along with historical and religious symbols
(Grewal, 1998). Historically, Sikhs experienced extensive religious discord with the
Muslims based on historic invasions and oppression by Moghul rulers from the 16th to
the 18th century, but Hindus and Sikhs had almost no historic animosity along religious
lines (Deol, 2003). As well, traditionally Hindus and Sikhs had been commonly opposed
to Urdu as an official language of the region and against Muslim dominance in Punjab;
however, after independence, Hindu-Sikh rivalry and agitation started up and steadily
increased (Gupta, 1970). In Reny’s (2009) study of the political salience of language and
religion for Sikhs in Punjab she examines the paradox: “Hindus would perhaps not be as
resistant to recognize the Gurmukhi script if it did not have such a Sikh connotation, and
Sikhs would not be as inclined to favour the Gurmukhi script if it was not as religiously
symbolic” (p. 494).
For the purpose of this investigation I consider Punjab as a cultural-ecological
zone where ethnicity, religion and language are intertwined in complex and dynamic
ways. The influences of ethnicity, religion and language have always been felt in Punjab
in regards to how the state has responded to federal policy initiatives in relation to state
language development in Punjab. The broader multilingual patterns of Punjab have
always included Punjab born Hindus whose first language is Punjabi, with no religious
connotation and who use it more as a tool of education, communication and
correspondence (Brass, 1974). However, prosperity attached to the rural economy of
Punjab attracts a large pool of migrants from eight less economically advantaged
northern states of India like UP, Bihar, Haryana, Himachal Pradesh, West Bengal,
Jammu and Kashmir and Rajasthan. All of these are Hindi speaking states, resulting in
952,810 migrants migrating to work in the agricultural sector of Punjab in 2001 (Singh,
Singh & Ghuman, 2007). In Kaur et al’s (2011) study of migrant laborer’s migrating to
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Punjab, they found 90% belonged to the Hindu faith, and a significant percentage
(15.6%) of were between 0-20 years old, requiring access to education and schooling
while 75% were between 21-40 years old. Illiteracy was an important factor for 67.1 % of
them, while 26.0% had primary education, 5.5 % had middle schooling, and only 1.4%
had reached grade 10. The demographic center of gravity is still Punjabi (92.2%),
however Hindi along with Urdu are the other two significant languages in Punjab (Table
1). Growing up as a northerner, I can attest to the following in Punjab:
In Punjab/Haryana area of northern Indian subcontinent Hindi, Urdu and Punjabi have been described as forming a language continuum. Hindi and Urdu are mutually comprehensible in the spoken form and Punjabi is a close sister-language. Differences between the languages for instance in terms of vocabulary and pronunciation, have been magnified for political and religious reasons, particularly since Pakistan became an independent Muslim majority state (Bradby, 2002, p.845).
In my study I look at whether these kinds of on-the-ground linguistic realities are
reflected in language planning and policy at the Punjab State Education Board.
5.2. History of Punjabi language planning and policy
Under British rule, in undivided Punjab, 27.8% of the population was religiously
Hindu, 13.25 were Sikh and 55.9% were Muslim (with Hindi, Punjabi and Urdu as their
mother tongues respectively) (Hill et al, 2008). Urdu was the medium of instruction at the
school level, the language of the courts and of administration along with English.
However, as the Muslim separatist movement increased in momentum in the 30’s and
40’s, the Urdu language paradoxically declined in use in Punjab. Politically influenced,
most Punjabi Muslims tended to learn only Urdu and English, while maintaining
Shahmukhi (Punjabi written in Arabic script). In return, Hindus and Sikhs learned only
Hindi, Gurmukhi Punjabi (written in the script of the Sikh holy books) and English,
neglecting Urdu as a consequence. When Partition took place in 1947, more than half of
Punjab was incorporated into the new nation of Pakistan, and the vast majority of the
Muslim population moved with it. This set the scene for all subsequent developments
with respect to language in the remaining Indian state of Punjab.
After Independence, religious leaders in Punjab commenced their demands for a
linguistically homogeneous Punjabi state, affiliating their demands with Sikh identity,
religious particularism and promotion the Gurmukhi script. This religious identification
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and affiliation impelled large sections of the Hindu community in Punjab to reject Punjabi
and to declare Hindi as their mother tongue. Census language returns were suddenly
affected by the widening gap between identification of Punjabi language as a cultural
language and a religious one. The move by Hindi-speaking Hindu religious groups to
divest themselves of the Punjabi vernacular by linking Hindi with Sanskrit rather than
Punjabi followed. With the coming into force of the Constitution of India in 1950, most of
the existing states moved to adopt a regional majority language as their official
language. Punjab, however, found itself unable to do so, thanks to the influence of its
large Hindi speaking minority. Brass (2005) writes that for ten plus years (1955-1966),
Sikh leaders (mainly from the Akali Dal political party) pushed for linguistic boundaries
for Punjab so that Punjabi language and identity could be officially preserved. Language
politics hit a language bump and the linguistic groups became embroiled in identity
politics (Brass, 2005).
It is interesting to note that in 1911 enumerators asked the question: what
language is ordinarily spoken in the household, with the following results in Punjab:
1,670,022 Hindi speaking, 7,682,186 Punjabi speaking, 322,495 said they were Urdu
speakers. In 1921 the enumerators asked what language was ordinarily used and the
numbers changed significantly for Urdu speakers: 1,641,268 Hindi speakers, 7,990,863
Punjabi speakers and 1,221,885 Urdu speakers. From 1931-1961 the census simply
asked for mother tongue and uniquely it reported all of the state as Punjabi speaking at
8,418,240 – conflating everyone into one language group (just as the Punjab Sikhs had
always suggested). In 1951 the census enumerators had reported that due to the
language debate fanning communal passions, it had decided to show Hindi, Urdu and
Punjabi as one group numbering 15,858,835. In 1961 for the very first time self-declared
Punjabi speakers became a minority in their own state, with Hindus identifying Hindi with
Hinduism and Punjabi with the Sikh religion and not as cultural languages. In 1961 a
total of 11,298,855 persons recorded themselves as Hindi speakers, Punjabi speakers
numbered 8,343,264; and Urdu speakers were a mere 255,660 (Brass, 2005).
In his analysis of the political and socio-religious leanings in reporting mother
tongue Brass (2005) states:
The Hindi movement over time has succeeded in absorbing millions of speakers not only of mother tongues generally considered to be regional dialects of Hindi, but of mother tongues generally considered to constitute
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grammatically distinct languages… The regional languages of the north have been able to survive against the inroads of Hindi only where they have been useful as symbols in the struggles of minority people, such as Muslims and Sikhs, whose demands have not been primarily linguistic (p.297).
During this period of struggle over language and identity, various bilingual
policies were introduced. The Sachar Formula of 1949 enforced bilingualism in schools
within demarcated areas; Punjabi in Gurmukhi script was to be the MOI in Punjabi
speaking areas and Hindi in Devanagari scrip in Hindi speaking areas, with both adding
the other language in later primary years. Its unique feature was the freedom for parents
to demand their choice of language if numbers could be shown to justify it. The Patiala
and East Punjab States Union (PEPSU) Formula similarly affected the region of Patiala
and East Punjab, a state which existed from 1948 to 1956 before being folded into
Punjab proper, though with no opt out for parents. The Regional Formula established
two regional linguistic committees in the Legislature to monitor the implementation of
these policies (Brass, 2005).
Such solutions did little, however, to defuse the conflict between Hindus and
Sikhs. The Hindu influenced Arya Samaj demanded that Hindi be given special status as
a national language, claiming that Hindus were, “constitutionally entitled to receive their
education through the medium of their mother tongue from the first class in both public
and privately managed schools” (Brass, 2005, p.342), while the Sikh influenced Akali Dal
had an “ultimate goal of a Sikh-dominated political unit” (Brass, 2005, p. 341). After
much conflict a tentative solution emerged after the 1957 state elections when the
Congress party headed a coalition in the state legislature. It proposed a Punjab
Language Act of 1960 to help solve the Hindi-Punjabi language rivalry by delineating two
separate linguistic regions for Punjabi and Hindi in the state. Students would learn the
language assigned to their region as the MOI of elementary education and then learn the
other language at the secondary stage.
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Figure 2. Bifurcation of Punjab Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Punjab_1951-66.svg
As it turned out, though, this was just one more step on the road to a second
partition of Punjab. In keeping with India’s evolving philosophy about carving up the
country on linguistic boundaries, an Act of Parliament amended the Constitution of India
by enacting the Punjab Reorganization Act of 1966 and creating two more states. One
was Himachal Pradesh (previously a union territory) under the Act’s Section 5(1) and the
other was Haryana, formed under Section 3(1) effectively removing Hindu majority
districts from Punjab and leaving Punjabis as a majority language within its own state,
with Punjabi (written in Gurmukhi script) taking its place as the official language of the
state of Punjab even as it maintained its position on the scheduled languages list of India
as per the VIIIth schedule (Singh, 2016). This new state of affairs was enshrined in the
new Punjab Official Languages Act, 1967, which was further revised in 2008, to mirror
the federal TLF. Now all three languages (Punjabi, Hindi and English) were present, with
the MOI designated as Punjabi in government schools; private schools could choose the
medium but were required to include the other two languages as subjects (Brass, 2005).
Punjabi sensibilities had been sorely tested by the colonists who had instituted
Urdu as the official language/vernacular of Punjab at the time of annexation of the
province in 1849, driven by the simple logic of standardization (Rahman, 2007). Urdu
was being inculcated as the language of employees of the Raj in the north and thus
“they could easily be deployed in the newly acquired territory of Punjab if it were
instituted as the language of the state” (Ayers, 2008, p. 922). The colonists had viewed
Punjabi no more than a “patois”, which did not help matters, succeeding in alienating
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Punjabis from their rightful ethnic, linguistic and religious identity and weakening their
case for language rights post-independence (Jalal, 2000).
Informed by a century of political, social and linguistic oppression and conflict,
and the chances provided by an independent India, Punjab’s Official Language Act,
1967 put to rest any ambiguity or further linguistic encroachment, and clearly laid out
Punjabi as the official language of the new, smaller state. The Act (see Appendix B)
enshrined the legal basis: “to provide for adoption of Punjabi as the language to be used
for all or any of the official purposes of the State of Punjab” in the Gurmukhi script.
Significant is the adoption of the Gurmukhi script, putting to rest the Devanagari debate.
Not only was the Gurmukhi version of Punjabi claimed as the language of
communication, it also carried with it the important acknowledgement of history, religion,
culture, ritual and memory (Mitra, 2002). The Act also accepted the role of English in the
state legislature and the role of the State authorities in the development of Hindi as a
language, ensuring a lawfully condoned secondary position of the two languages. This
concession to political and linguistic realities was, however, minimal. The clear,
overriding purpose of the Act was to enshrine Punjabi as the dominant state language.
In a certain sense, then, the newly delimited state was turning its back on the
complex linguistic debates in India since the early 1920’s and positioning itself politically
as a monolingual state, or at least a state where one language clearly held centre stage.
The fact that Hindi and Urdu had been part of diverse linguistic communities in Punjab
since time immemorial was not acknowledged in POLA; Urdu was not even mentioned,
and the expressed commitment to “developing” Hindi almost appears to suggest its
tentative position and to discount the benefit to the state of a well-developed literary and
business language. The enduring legacy of Partition may have influenced the absolute
elimination of Urdu from the official sections within the Act, as well as a desire to curb
Hindi’s hegemony in northern India.
In a small move, the Act did give the right of anyone to represent themselves in
any of the languages of the State for the purposes of redress in the courts. This however
would change forty-one years later, when in 2008 the Act was amended to require that
the work of the judiciary, along with public sector undertakings like schools, colleges and
universities, was henceforth to be conducted only in Punjabi, further solidifying the
political position of a monolingual state. Investment in infrastructure and training was to
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be undertaken by the State to ensure effective compliance of language dominance
(especially in the Courts). The significance of Punjabi as the official language of the
judiciary cannot be overstated, as it now provided the State with control over the
language in which the law is developed, read and enacted and its effect on Punjabis and
the country (Appendix B). The effect of the POLA on political and cultural discourse in
Punjabi society is huge; in essence, the Act is the legal expression of a vision for Punjabi
society based on an assumed shared linguistic identity, notwithstanding the inequities
present. Punjabi is the vernacular through which the State lays claim to the allegiance of
its people.
5.3. Punjab School Board of Education
As a linguistically bounded area, for more than fifty years, Punjab has been a
state dominated by a single major language as the MOI in the public sector. Yet the
complexities of Indian society and politics, as outlined in chapter 3, make the situation
much less simple than it appears. For this reason, my fieldwork in Punjab focused on
understanding in greater detail how language policy is organized and implemented
within the education system, a set of “relatively delimited networks of social practice”
(Fairclough, 2003, p. 66) suited to critical discourse analysis. The public education
system furnishes “the social problem which has a semiotic aspect” at the center of the
analysis (p.125.) Going beyond the straightforward prescription of POLA 2008, an
examination of planning and policy directives in public schools of Punjab, along with the
organization of the school system and the flow of policy directives through the hierarchy,
yields rich material for analysis ‘utilizing Fairclough’s framework’s steps 1 and 2 (2001;
see Chapter 4). The analysis takes into account the network, the ensuing relationships,
the order of the discourse, its interaction(s), the mix of genres, discourses and styles,
intertextuality and the signification of the texts.
Because I have said little so far about the education system in India, I will briefly
sketch the overall context. India possesses a massive school educational system with
1,467,680 schools in total, out of which 1,072,836 are government mandated, 349,412
are privately owned and operated, and 45,432 are affiliated to religious institutions
(UDISE, 2016-17 figures). Total student enrollment is a staggering 189,887,015 with
111,310,953 students attending government schools. Such diversity of populations over
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a large linguistically rich country poses its own set of inquiries and challenges with
respect to learning, resources, and access to education.
In Punjab in 2016-17, out of 28,717 schools, 20,524 were government schools
managed by the Punjab School Board of Education and almost completely subsidized by
government, and there were 7,339 private schools. Total students enrolled were
3,894,228, out of which 2,006,389 attended government schools with 134,364 teachers,
compared to 1,720,848 students in private schools with 112,986 teachers. The ratio of
student to teacher is lesser in the private schools where funding is not based on a
government budget but rather on what the families can pay, and exorbitant fees are
charged by the schools for a private education for those that can afford it (UDISE, 2016-
17). In a 2007 study on private and public schools in rural India, the authors found that,
“Private-school teacher salaries are typically one-fifth the salary of regular public-school
teachers (and are often as low as one-tenth of these salaries). This enables the private
schools to hire more teachers, have lower pupil teacher ratios, and reduce multi-grade
teaching. Private school teachers are significantly younger and more likely to be from the
same area as their counterparts in the public schools” (Muralidharan & Kremer, 2007,
p.2). The same study also found that the more prosperous states like Punjab and
Haryana have the highest incidences of private schools in the country. Even though
these schools pay lower salaries and administrators expect less stringent credentialing
for their teachers, “two of the major attractions of private schools are the fact that they
start teaching English earlier (MOI) and that there is more teaching activity in the
schools” (p. 12). These two factors alone provide the incentive for parents who have the
money to bypass public education and flock to elitist schools that cater to their
particularly privileged motivations of success and upward mobility for their children.
To support such disparity of needs and desires, there are three Boards of
Education in Punjab – the central government mandated Central Board of Education that
supports any and all types of schools across the country (private, military funded,
religiously affiliated etc.), the state managed Punjab School Education Board for
government schools only, with strict Punjabi MOI, and the Council for Indian School
Certification, established only for private schools across the country (English MOI). The
schools that affiliate to each of the three Boards enroll students that come from different
socio-economic positions in Indian society. The complex relationships between people in
Punjab (or anywhere) are thus further exacerbated when issues of solidarity, status and
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power come to play in the education realm. Some of these issues are related to
language in schools, in particular access to a language, English, that is deemed to have
a higher level of power and thereby to enhance students’ future life outcomes.
In this study, I focused on the Punjab School Education Board (PSEB), which is
the advisory body to the state Government in regards to anything to do with public
school education in the state. It has three major responsibilities: to set the curriculum
and courses of study for all government schools; to set public exams at the school level;
and to bring about qualitative improvements in school education (PSEB Act, 2005). The
Board is staffed with various departments and policy actors who are hierarchically
placed in a highly bureaucratized system of administration. My goal was to understand
how language-in-education policy is implemented within a top down model that is well
entrenched in India as a bureaucratic policymaking system. Of particular interest to me,
within a critical discourse/critical theory framework, was to understand how linguistic
power is exercised within the system. As Singh (2014) observed in her study on
democratic spaces in policy making:
Public policy is about government action to address public issues. A dominant tendency has been to treat crafting of public policy as a technical function of government—a top-down approach and rational choice based on available data and information. But it is increasingly also being seen as a matter of power and politics, involving contestation, negotiations, bargaining and accommodation of diverse interests and actors. For far from being a single and a onetime act, public policymaking is an interactive and dynamic process that involves a gamut of actions and inactions by many groups, with varied interests, at varied stages in a network, through whom decisions flow, policy agendas get set, policies get shaped, programmes are formulated, implemented and evaluated (p.2).
My first task was to get to know how the system works. The organizational chart
below outlines the administration of the public-school education system in Punjab. The
overall political direction is vested in the Education Minister, who relies on the Secretary
of School Education and the Director-General of School Education (DGSE) as the one
and two number top bureaucrats. Under the DGSE there is one Director of Public
Instruction (DPI) and one State Project Director (SPD), while each of the 22 districts in
Punjab has a District Education Officer (DEO) and a number of Block Primary Education
Officers (BPEO). The BPEOs in a given district work with numerous Block Resource
Persons (BRP) and District Resource Persons (DRP), who are responsible for providing
the appropriately assigned textbooks to the schools (see below).
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Table 2. Punjab School Board of Education Policy Division org. chart
School teachers are at the front lines of the education system, with each
elementary teacher teaching all subjects to one individual class (made up of up to 60
students), while senior secondary teachers teach as subject experts. The PSEB
teachers report to the Cluster Head Teachers (CHTs) who have about 5-15 schools
(either elementary or secondary) under them that they regularly visit in order to
implement directives that have been initiated from the PSEB. The CHTs prepare reports
to the BPEO who sends these reports to the DEO who in turn reports the information to
the DPI and through him to the DGSE.
The DPI invokes directives for training and evaluations of teachers on a regular
basis. Circulars sent out to the districts are issued by the DEO through the Block Primary
Education Officer to the BRPs and DRPs; these policy actors provide a direct link to the
Cluster Head Teachers, whose task is to ensure that directives reach the classroom
Secretary School Education, Ministry
of Education
Director General School Education
Cluster Master Teacher
Block Master Teacher
Director Public Instruction
District Education Officer
District Resource Person
Block Primary Education Officer
Cluster Head Teachers
Teachers
Teachers
Block Resource Person
State Project Director
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teacher in a timely, efficient and effective manner. Directives include syllabus changes,
language exam scheduling, posting model exams, upgrading of certification and
accreditation, etc.
In a nutshell, role of BRC/CRC is a mixed set of academic, supervisory, managerial, networking and creative activities; it goes beyond routine monitoring and supervision work as it encompasses providing support to schools and teachers through teacher training and teacher mentoring for their professional growth, strengthening community school linkage, providing resource support and carrying out action research (Tara, Kumar and Ramaswamy, 2010, p.2).
The DGSE also maintains a direct relationship with a number of Cluster Master
Teachers (CMT) and Block Master Trainers (BMT). These are directed to provide
teacher training on pedagogical methods under the government policy of Parho Punjab
Paraho Punjab (study Punjab, teach Punjab - a learning enhancement program). Parho
Punjab Paraho Punjab is an extension of Parho Bharat Baraho Bharat (study India, grow
India) – a Government of India initiative that promotes the study of the country, its
languages and through that aims for the growth of the country and its people (Kainth,
2006, Das, 2007). As reviewed later, Parho Punjab is a central element of DGSE’s
department-wide policy that plays a critical role in the interpretation and implementation
of the TLF in Punjab.
Punjab state school teachers attend mandatory training at the State Council of
Educational Research and Training (SCERT), whose mandate is to bring about
qualitative improvement in school education by conducting research and developing
study materials related to teacher training under the Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan (SSA,
Education for all) mandate from the Government of India. Along with Parho Punjab, this
is the second overarching policy framework that impacts all public education in Punjab.
SSA directs all states to ensure universal, free and compulsory education for all
elementary schools’ children as a fundamental right (Kainth, 2006, Das, 2007); its
specific goals were set in 2001 to include:
(i) all children in school by 2003, (ii) all children complete five years of primary schooling by 2007; (iii) all children complete eight years of elementary schooling by 2010; (iv) focus on elementary education of satisfactory quality with emphasis on education for life; (v) bridge all gender and social category gaps at the primary stage by 2007 and at the elementary stage by 2010; and (vi) universal retention by 2010 (Das, 2007, p, 21).
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In Punjab, SSA is implemented by way of the Right to Education Act 2011 (RTE).
Among other measures in support of RTE, the State provides free education to girls, a
uniform allowance, mid-day meals, furniture in classrooms, and scholarships to
economically deprived children in government schools. While RTE requires that every
child have access to education, there are many economically deprived families who do
not send children to school for various reasons, regardless of incentives that are
available to them. Overall progress on the goals of SSA is monitored by the National
University of Educational Planning and Administration through the Educational
Management Information System (EMIS) and the District Information System for
Education (DISE). Drawing on these databases, the National University reported that
elementary school enrollments increased substantially from 168 million in 2005-06 to
186 million in 2008-09 (Hussain, Khan & Khan, 2018). However, even with these
staggering numbers (see 2016-17 numbers above), according to the evaluation report of
the SSA by the Planning Commission (2010), it states that “universal access has not
been achieved due to formation of new habitations over time, non-availability of land
(forest areas, delays in construction, procedural delays and lack of community
involvement”” (p. iv). DISE’s 2017 report based on the 2011 Census data indicates that
only 12.7% of all schools in India are able to comply with all 10 RTE parameters (U-
DISE, 2017).
In Punjab, as in other states, the SSA directs the establishment and maintenance
of Village Education Committees coordinated by Block Resource Centres (SSA
Framework for Implementation Section II, 2008). The purpose of this devolved structure
is to support community partnership in local school management, curriculum
implementation, student attendance and academic learning, infrastructure and financial
matters of school districts, Thus the BRP’s and DRP’s in each region in Punjab work
with the Sarv Sikhiya Vikas Committee (SSVC – School Management Committee) and
the Pendu Sikhiya Vikas Committee (PSVC- Village Progress Education Committee)
which are duly constituted by the DGSE in the urban and rural areas respectively. Each
Committee consists of two village/town leaders (from the fourth level of government –
the Panchayat), two Parent Teacher Association (PTA) members, one retired military
officer, one retired teacher and one person from a charity. The Committee takes
decisions on infrastructure projects and the upgrading of facilities and student services,
but are silent on curriculum or syllabus, with no power or agency to impact change in
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that arena, however small or large, far removed from any policy machinery. The
regulations governing the Committees are directed, monitored and supported by state
officials at Block Resource Centres (BRC) and Central Resource Centres (CRC) in the
region, which are hierarchically bound to District Education Officers who have enormous
amounts of clout. There are 125 BRCs and 1499 CRCs in the state of Punjab (Tara,
Kumar & Ramaswamy, 2010).
In a federal study of 14 states (including Punjab) commissioned by the Ministry
of Human Resource Development (Tara, Kumar & Ramaswamy, 2010), on the
effectiveness of BRCs and CRCs in providing academic support to schools, the authors
suggest that there is considerable variation in both how they function and their
performance. Common problems include the lack of subject specialist teachers, parents’
lack of interest in the education of their children, migratory populations’ lack of
community mobilization, poor monitoring by SSA staff and inadequate training
programmes for teachers. The authors recommend more visits by functionaries of the
CRCs to the schools, but also note that “their approach is more official and authoritative
and not conducive to problem solving” (p. 46). They also advocate better academic
support for teachers, in particular in Punjab. Perhaps most crucially, the “training
received by Village Education Committee members was woefully inadequate and
practically absent in many cases” (p.v). This is due to the under-resourced nature of the
Block Resource Centres, which the report identifies as the weakest link in the
organizational structure of the SSA:
The District Project Coordinators were of the view that the BRCs were overloaded with administrative work, had inadequate infrastructure and were burdened with the jobs of conducting too many training programmes. They had insufficient official power and suffered from lack of recognition for good work (p.v).
The main evaluation report on SSA (Srinavasan, 2010) echoes Tara et al.’s
findings on community support and accountability, “Staff constraints, poor infrastructure,
a tight budget for contingency funds and the distance from the school’s results in weak
linkages, monitoring and supervision” (p, 51). Overall, Hussain, Khan and Khan ((2018)
suggest in their review that, “the states may have insufficient supervision structure or
weak capacity to implement a program at the scale of SSA. It is important to note that
Student Classroom Ratio (SCR) is also among the highest in some of the States due to
a gap in infrastructure” (p. 79).
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5.4. Impact of language planning and policy discourse at the PSEB
I studied the process of policy making and implementation in PSEB by focusing
on the body of 180 policy directives published in 2018, along with two more directives
from 2017 and 2019 that illustrate specific aspects of the policy system (Appendix E).
These policy directives originate with four key institutional players in the policy hierarchy:
The Director of Public Instruction (DPI), the State Project Director (SPD), the Director of
the State Council of Educational Research and Training (SCERT) and the Department of
Technical Education and Industrial Training (DTEIT). I will clarify the roles of each of
these before turning to an analysis of the language policy discourse that contributes to
informing and shaping the interventions of the system in the operation of government
schools in Punjab.
The DPI Department’s official role is to ensure that the systems of instruction,
access to instructional resources, enrollment, admissions, and recruitment are correctly
implemented and that facilities provided to students are properly administered (like the
mid-day meals, potable water, scholarships, uniforms, books etc.). In my visits to the
PSEB offices, it was interesting to note (in terms of transparency and the public interest)
that almost daily e-circulars are sent out by the DPI office on various policy/management
directives to downstream policy actors and public school administrators – both through
direct email and also posted on the PSEB electronic portals (SSA Punjab, n.d.). Regular
circulars ranging from salary allocations to grievance decisions are also posted on the
website and specific ones related to public policy are included in the same manner
(SSA, 2019).
Because these schemes are funded by the Government of India’s Ministry of
Human Resource Development (MHRD), the PSEB is accountable through the state
legislature and upward to the Government of India (Ministry of Human Resource
Development). Above the DPI, a key monitoring and policy-making role is played by the
Director General School Education, who is responsible to the top bureaucrat in
Education, the Secretary School Education (SSE). In parallel to the DPI policy stream,
the State Project Director (SPD) works to implement DGSE directives down to the
DEOs, including the timeliness of funds flowing to the different levels of the public
schools, approving preparation of work plans for the BPEO, BRPs and DRPs and any
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associated problems with monitoring and supervision of the MOI. The Block Primary
Education Officers (BPEOs) coordinate the work of the functionaries both at the block
and district level and directly administer Cluster Head Teachers by providing support,
monitoring and supervision of their activities and reporting to the DEO through a system
of evaluations. In this manner, district level organizations play a critical role in managing
policy directives as important intermediaries, without allowing any lower level or outside
agency or person to interfere or have influence. In Punjab there are 22 districts called
administrative geographical units within which public schools are managed by the
Ministry of Education.
The SCERT is a third important policy-making body. Implementing SCERT
directives is mandatory for the 83 institutions (teacher training colleges) affiliated with the
District Institute of Education and Training (DIET). Besides developing the curriculum for
teacher training, SCERT’s mandate is to provide research support for the State
curriculum framework, age appropriate syllabus, revision of text books and evaluations
at the elementary level. DIET affiliated colleges in the various districts are set up by
SCERT to provide teacher training by implementing SCERT training programs. Syllabus
divisions at SCERT in Mohali are some of the most powerful agents for language
education, with direct influence over what teachers teach in classrooms and how they
teach it. Finally, the Department of Technical Education and Industrial Training (DTEIT)
provides academic oversight to industrial and technical training institutions in Punjab
(vocational training).
Over a period of eight months I spent time studying 182 policy directives
(circulars) issued by the PSEB. The areas covered and directions given by these policies
were extremely varied and diverse – both in terms of content and target audiences.
Firstly, almost exclusively the directives were written in Punjabi with a few smatterings of
English words or legal findings in English that were verbatim from the courts. None of
the circulars were in Hindi and the language was non-existent in all the policies that I
studied. Out of the 182 circulars I further analyzed 21 of the directives that directly
informed the language policy intent of the POLA and the TLF (Appendix E- marked with
astericks).
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To illustrate the analytical process, I have reproduced the translated text of one
directive (#146) and shown how I go about interpreting its role within the policy discourse
of PSEB. The circular is also attached in Appendix F in the original Punjabi text.
Fairclough’s (2001) framework’s step 3 (chapter 4) provides a guide to analyzing
the social order of language planning and policy and whether “the ideology behind the
language policy contribute to sustaining particular relations of power and domination”
(p.126). Does the powerful position of policy makers ensure that the political need to
achieve consent in the education arena is ensured through compliance processes that
are embedded in the institution, maintaining status quo and policy domination?
5.4.1. Circular # 146, Implementation of Parho Punjab, Paraho Punjab Project in Schools, 04/15/.2018
The following is a translated version of Circular #14 (for Punjabi version see Appendix F)
Office of the Director, Ministry of Education, Punjab, At Punjab School
Sikhya Board Complex Phase 8, S.A.S. Nagar
To Via Website All District Education Officers All Principals, District Centres and Education Committees All Block Primary Resource Persons Punjab Memo No: - 10/211-2017, Spr (2)/489-91 Dated: SAS Nagar; 13-4-2018 RE: Implementing Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab Project in schools 1.0 Please take the trouble to read the notice below. 2.0 As you are aware the Punjab Government through its jurisdiction has asked
that all public primary schools in order to improve their learning capacity will run the Parho Punjab, Paraho Punjab Project, The Parho Punjab, Paraho Punjab Project has been a part of the budget speech. The Parho Punjab, Paraho Punjab Project benefits children’s primary education on these foundational levels (listening, speaking, reading, writing and comprehension) and grammar (recognition of numbers, multiplication, addition, subtraction and division) through which much improvement will occur.
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3.0 It is our belief that at the least, through this project’s learning outcomes, and if the true effects of schooling are to be experienced, the foundations of a student’s education will strengthen. Any child that can at the least fulfill this goal, then attaching them to higher learning through the texts can help them reach higher goals. This exactly is the wish and desire of the Parho Punjab, Paraho Punjab project.
4.0 District coordinators/B.M.T. (Block Master Trainers)/ C.M.T. (Cluster Master Trainers) are working in a government capacity to improve children’s learning through the Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab project. Through the school visit, they will write/enter their estimations of improvements they have observed in the school record/visitor book. It has come to the attention of our office that some school Principals/teachers are not assisting the B.M.T. and C.M.T.’s by not making the record/visitor book available to them which creates barriers to the Punjab Government initiated program and is against the rules of the Government.
5.0 All District Education Officers, DIET Principals, associated Block Primary Resource Persons are told in writing that if the School Principal/teachers create barriers in the implementation of Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab or do not provide assistance to the B.M.T’s/C.M.T.’s with the record/visitor book then at once, according to the rules of the Department, an investigation will be held and a report of the findings will be forwarded to the Head Office.
Signed: Director Ministry of Education (A.C.), Punjab. Date: SAS Nagar: 13/4/2018
C.C. This notice is sent by copy to the following: 1. P.A. to Secretary School Education, Punjab. 2. P.A. to Director General School Education, Punjab. 3. Director SCERT, Punjab.
The following analysis is organized according to the layout of the Circular.
Heading: Circular 146 is sent by the Director of the Ministry of Education (DPI) to
all District Officers, all Principals, all District Learning Centres and their Education
Committees, as well as all Block Primary Resource Persons. It is obvious that the
directive refers to the implementation of a Government of Punjab initiative whose goal is
for students to learn about Punjab and for teachers to teach Punjabi. This establishes a
frame of reference that invokes both a quasi-nationalist understanding of “Punjab” as a
political and cultural identity and a sense of the government’s democratic legitimacy. It
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also makes it clear that recipients are intended to interpret the circular according to their
roles within the policy apparatus rather than as independent agents.
Paragraph 1.0: The phrasing in the single sentence of this paragraph clearly
establishes the power relation between the source of the text and the recipients. It
conveys that the issuing Ministry official has the right to “trouble” the recipients – that the
contents are not to be ignored, even if the recipient should wish to.
Paragraph 2.0: Building on Paragraph 1, this paragraph reaffirms that the policy
has the full force of the Government behind it, emphasizing its inclusion in the State of
Punjab’s budget speech. This opening is clearly aimed at establishing the reality, weight
and importance of the policy as a political entity. Subsequently, the paragraph focuses
on portraying the goals of PPPP as self-evidently beneficial: none of the officials being
addressed is likely to deny the value of improvements in foundational skills related to
learning (listening, speaking, reading, writing and comprehension) and arithmetic
(number recognition, multiplication, addition, subtraction and division). Discursively, the
purpose of this paragraph is to render the policy beyond critique on either political or
educational grounds.
Paragraph 3.0: Ostensibly, this paragraph is designed to further strengthen the
claims for the educational value of the policy. In articulating a strategic ideological
discourse that connects “the foundations of a student’s education” with “attaching them
to higher learning … [to] reach higher goals,” the Ministry appears simply to be asserting
the integrated nature of the school system. However, in light of the dominant role of
English in “higher learning,” the intent may also be to push back on doubts as to whether
the policy’s focus on teaching Punjabi is in conflict with students’ long-term aspirations.
The message is that there is no conflict, just as Paragraph 2 emphasizes that the goals
of the political and educational systems are in perfect alignment. The final phrase, “This
is exactly the wish and desire of the Parho Punjab, Paraho Punjab Project,” reinforces
this message of an intrinsic, consensual harmony around the policy.
Paragraph 4.0: Only in this paragraph does the reason for the Circular become
clear. In contrast to the picture of unity and concord conveyed in the previous
paragraphs, Paragraph 4 admits that some educators are actually circumventing the
policy mechanisms intended for the implementation of PPPP. In particular, local school
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administrators are hampering the ability of district-level officials to record their
evaluations of the school’s efforts to implement the policy. The paragraph throws the
government’s weight behind these district-level officials. In conjunction with the previous
paragraphs, the Circular frames these school-level acts of resistance not only as
contravention of the rules, but also as the disruption of harmony.
Paragraph 5.0: Building on the previous paragraph, the downstream policy actors
(both school-level and district-level) are reminded that the Government has mechanisms
of coercion and enforcement at its disposal to ensure policy implementation. The formal
bureaucratic discourse of “rules,” “investigations” and “reports” reinforces the message
established in the Heading and Paragraph 1 – namely, that officials within the hierarchy
of the Punjab education system are not afforded the discretion of choosing which
policies to implement and which to ignore. The Circular seeks to convey an image of a
unitary, tightly controlled policy system that is the perfect servant of the consensual
vision advanced by the political and education authorities.
Overall: Circular 146 serves as a good example of the overall ideological system
that is manifested through the policy directives discourse. One general aim of the policy
directives is to reinforce the hierarchical flow of authority from top Ministry officials down
through district-level officials to schools. Another is to legitimize both the overall policy
system and the specific educational policies in question. The discursive strategies
deployed in Circular 146 are widely employed to encourage policy implementation buy-
in, to empower and direct policy actors to implement the policy, and to provide for
coercion and enforcement in the case of resistance. Invisible surveillance on the part of
authorities like the Secretary School Education (SSE), the DGSE and the Director of
SCERT, and overarching policy frameworks such as PPPP, SSA, and POLA, contribute
to the image of a unitary, disciplined and rational State apparatus. The Punjabi
language, both as used in the directives and occasionally referred to as an object of
education policy, is clearly aligned with this image of the State.
I will now summarize the findings of my analysis of the rest of the corpus of policy
directives referred to above and listed in Appendix E, focusing on those which offer
greatest insight into the policy discourse pertaining to language.
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5.4.2. Circular # 5, Model Test Paper Class 8th Science
This Circular is representative of a number of mock tests (called sample papers)
uploaded for grade 8 and 10 practice of upcoming exams in math, political science,
geography, and economics. All such tests are set in the Punjabi language (with the
exception of the English and Hindi sample test). (Similar policy directives: # 5,
10,11,12,13,14, 16,17). It should be recalled that admissions tests for higher education
in India are set in English, so this consistent use of Punjabi for secondary-level exams
constitutes a significant element of Punjab language policy.
5.4.3. Circular #136, Regarding Punjab State Language Act, 2008, 5/9/2018
Within the given corpus of policy directives, Circular 136 most directly addresses
the overall language policy of the State, referring directly to the Punjab State Language
Act 2008 (I note that it is incorrectly identified). Originating with the State Secretary of
the Ministry of Education’s Language Division, this policy directive in no uncertain terms
informs all Heads of Ministries of the State, Division Commissioners, the High Courts,
Civil Officers, District and Session Judges, and all crown corporations that Punjabi is the
language of the State Government. The directive makes mention of both POLA 1967
and 2008 as the legal frameworks informing the policy.
The directive encourages the use of English as a complementary language and
not as the primary language of the State. The directive employs ideology-driven
discourse to naturalize/justify the use of Punjab as the language of the average
population – a clear democratic/populist rationale and to revitalize English as a
complimentary language.
Paragraph 2: The text makes clear the fact that Punjabi language must be in use
by stating that “other than any communication with any other state or the Centre,
according to the Punjab Official Act 2008 only Punjabi language is to be used, we are
requiring Punjabi information be prepared for the website along with English that is being
used now”.
As with Circular 146, this one is occasioned by issues of non-compliance. “It has
come to our attention that the Punjab Government’s inclusive offices, Boards and
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Corporation’s maintain only English language websites, due to which the average
population of Punjab is bereft of information about different schemes managed by
government departments. These schemes developed by the State Government have
been created only for the benefit of the average population.”
The high social order of the missive ensures compliance to the ideology of the
State, and although policy actors know that the forces encouraging the publication of
information in English are not going away, the work to delegitimize the use of English
and legitimize the use of Punjabi for such purposes Circular #136, Regarding Punjab
State Language Act, 2008, 5/9/2018).
5.4.4. Circular #71, Implementation of Buddy Group System in Schools, 12/10/2018
Circular 71, from the Director of SCERT, sheds light on an interesting aspect of
the Parho Punjab/Paraho Punjab project. In an effort to maintain interest and to
strengthen Punjabi language learning, teachers and officers in the education system are
exhorted to discourage the use of English in the classroom. The directive encourages
teachers to take note of the focus of the initiative, which is to prepare students for annual
exams, acquire better grades and to be placed in merit lists for Punjabi learning through
a peer learning process. The directive states, “In order to implement the mandate of the
Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab Project in its pure form and to follow the learning
outcomes, students are encouraged to take part in Peer Learning and create a feeling of
collaboration and team work. As well, student are discouraged from speaking English in
the program”.
I note that Hindi is not mentioned in the directive (to support peer learning),
because it would be logical to assume that Hindi, not English, is the more commonly
used language after Punjabi between students in the public-school system. It appears
that policy actors in the Parho Punjab initiative are paying more attention to the threat of
English than Hindi. While at the very same time, the public system is introducing English
language instruction at an earlier stage (grade 1) than Hindi (grade 3), perhaps because
it may be still considered a ‘foreign or alien” tongue in a state like Punjab, although all
societal indications in India are that English is an Indian language too.
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The social effects of discourse are evident in the use of words like “self-
confidence” and “mental well-being” in relation to peer learning, and in so doing
attributing causal effect of the policy on student’s holistic outcomes, positioning the
students as social subjects. The document’s text includes the following, “students mental
well-being and physical health through interest in sports is encouraged” and “students
should take part in different competitions so that they gain self-confidence in
themselves”.
5.4.5. Circular # 100, Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab meeting through Edusat, 08/20/2018; Circular #101, One day workshop on Punjabi subject under Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab Project, 16/08/2018
Circulars 100 and 101 are examples of regular directives sent to State Resource
Centers to ensure training/orientation of teachers, including through the participation of
subject language experts (Punjabi, English, Hindi). As Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab
project’s implementation is rolled out, policy planners structure the texts to establish
discourse that gives credence to policy actors’ positions of power and privilege. As
shown earlier in the case of Circular 146, policy texts do not just reflect policy entities,
they construct or constitute them (and the author) with power. In this manner the #101
policy directive states, “As you are aware, the State policy of Parho Punjab Paraho
Punjab is being implemented in the primary schools. In order to implement it, the policy
planner assigned to its implementation, the respected Director of SCERT requires the
DRP’s, the BRP’s, the DIET Principals, the PPPP Coordinator and all CHT’s to meet at
the EDUSAT offices on 21-08-2018 between 1:30 and 2:00 pm.” The circular goes on to
direct CHT’s to implement the policy through school visits, together with BPEO’s, in
order to meet with teachers/educators who will be responsible for the eventual
implementation of the PPPP in the schools.
Here again we see the policy directive used as a tool for top down policy
planning as it makes its way down to closer-to-the-ground policy actors. In Fairclough’s
terms, a discursive event (the training) is framed by means of terms and concepts that
reference power hierarchies and control. Words such as calling the State of Punjab the
Raj (associated with ruler/ruling over – the British Raj, the Mughal Raj etc.), and the
author of the policy calling himself the respected Director, contribute to endowing certain
entities (the State, the policy actor) with special social status. As Fairclough (2001)
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suggests, “Social actors within any practice produce representations of other practices,
as well as (‘reflexive’) representations of their own practice, in the course of their activity
within the practice...they produce different ‘performances’ of a particular position” (p.
123). Repeated over and over again in various ways within the corpus of policy
directives, such discursive acts create an impression of solidity and permanence that
helps maintain the ideological apparatus of the State.
5.4.6. SCERT Learning outcomes, 2017 related to Circular #144, Display of Learning Outcomes in classrooms, 4/17/2018
While policy actors play a key role in the furthering government policies, state
education mandated agencies also play a critical role in furthering the goals of language
planning and policy. One such example is the learning outcomes developed by SCERT
under the slogan (translated from Punjabi): Consider Education, Improve Life chances.
Of particular relevance for this study are the language learning outcomes for Punjabi
(entry level), English (Grade 1) and Hindi (Grade 3) (SCERT 2017). In my analysis I
evaluated inequities in the ways these languages are addressed within the discourse.
This SCERT document is different from the policy directives developed by PSEB
policy actors who provide the day to day directions for lower level policy actors within the
education system. The SCERT learning outcomes are formally designed by a team of
curriculum designers such as the Associate Director, Academic and various subject
experts. While in the text, Punjabi is continuously referred to as “first language” (paheli
bhasha in Punjabi), while Hindi is coded as “second language” (doosri bhasha in
Punjabi). These terms seem designed to assign to the languages their hierarchical
placings in the curriculum. In this and other curricular texts, English gets mentioned but
is not given any placing order (even though it is initiated in grade 1, before Hindi is
introduced in grade 3). Instead, English is added to a long list of subjects like Math,
Environment studies etc. with no special designation, belying the TLF where it is
recognized as an official language of the country and accepted as the second language
of the State.
The policy text bolsters its own authority and legitimacy by referencing the goals
of the National Policy on Education 1986/1992, the Program of Action 1992 and the RTE
2009. The directive declares that a change in education has been initiated by a global
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recognition that learning outcomes are beneficial for student learning, and that
involvement of parents in understanding the outcomes is crucial to their success. In this
manner, the policy creates a new complex discourse referencing a particular social
condition that has not been present in India before (parental involvement in learning
outcomes, even at first stage of awareness). There are clear connections here with
discourses of global monitoring, of education for all, of accountability, of new learning
landscapes, of new pedagogical domains, etc., so that Punjabi, Hindi and English,
among other subjects, are implicitly positioned as part of the contemporary educational
scene on a global scale.
Also noteworthy is how this framework acts as a staged discursive event
designed to appeal to other stakeholders (parents, education committees in the region,
the public at large) and position them as co-actors in the educational realm (drawing on
discourses of relationship building, of collective effort, of information sharing, of
knowledge-seeking inquiry). Under the signature of the Director the directive states, “It is
our goal to ensure that in order that all government policies reach our students, that they
are developed in an effective, influential and thoughtful manner.” This constitutes an
interesting variation on the image developed in Circular 146, of a top-down educational
hierarchy enacting a political-social consensus. Here, instead, the image is of a bottom-
up effort in which the educational establishment engages the public in a collective
enterprise of “education for all”. Of course, in both versions the policy apparatus of the
Ministry is represented as benign and inclusive in its intents and purposes. The
difference between these policy discourses may be more apparent than real (SCERT
Learning outcomes, 2017).
5.4.7. Circular # 144, Display of Learning Outcomes in Classrooms, 04/17/2018
The strategic use of policy tools to reinforce the policy hierarchy is illustrated in
another way in Circular 144. The directive takes its lead from the RTE Act 2009,
asserting the value of language curriculum development for the collective use of
children, teachers and parents. A set of learning outcomes is provided in Punjabi and
attached to the directive for easy preview and utility. Quick access to the learning
outcomes document is also assured by way of mobile, laptop and printed form as a PDF,
indicating some thought being given to easy and effective access by all its stakeholders.
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In the Circular, the policymaker (SCERT Director) directs the District Education Officer
and the Head of each public school in Punjab to ensure appropriate copies of class-
matched learning outcomes are available for posting/display on udaan classroom walls.
District officials are also guided to be aware of the need for this transparency, access
and information sharing. The directive in part pre-empts any attempt by lower level policy
agents to undermine higher level authority in critical information sharing that it envisions
can have circular impact – teacher to student to teacher to parent to student and so on.
This kind of high-level directive goes a long way to ensure policy is not destabilized by
other forces that are inferior to the larger authority.
5.4.8. Circular # 98, Improvement in vocabulary of students for Punjabi subject, 08/28/2018; Circular # 169, English subject competition under Parho Punjab, 2/3/2018
It became patently obvious as I studied the policy texts that Parho Punjab/Paraho
Punjab (PPPP) is a central strategy for implementing the language policy mandate.
Notably, policy actors at PSEB encourage an environmental approach to the acquisition
of language, subject knowledge and Punjabi culture – that is, to see these aspects of
learning as inherently linked within Punjabi-language schooling (# 98). Educators
themselves are encouraged to utilize methods of instruction that include the language in
all its manifestations from practical applied learning to academic study. The policy
states, “As you know, under the auspices of the Education Department’s Parho Punjab,
Paraho Punjab policy initiative, we are training teachers in order to increase Punjabi
language growth and usage.” No such inclusive initiative (e.g. Hindi Parho or English
Parho) is present for Hindi or English, as they are held at bay as subjects within the
larger Punjabi MOI. The English assessment section of PPPP is also developed in
Punjabi (e.g. any English words learned have to be explained in Punjabi by the student)
(#169). Even when the social environment for the child is primarily Hindi or English
oriented, the PPPP initiative promotes the beneficial linguistic ideology of Punjab with
the Punjabi language. It is through the policy of Punjabi MOI that the PSEB is able to
ensure Punjabi’s premier position and permanency in all subject/context matters.
As shown in earlier sections, these language acquisition directives are aligned
with the official language policy of the State (POLA) for all public education. This highly
formal and centralized form of policy implementation is carefully framed in the policy
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discourse to ensure compliance by all in the system. Educators as policy implementers
are cordoned into a very compartmentalized view of the policy machine, with no input
sought from them in the design or content matter of the formal directives studied here.
Invariably the PSEB directives start with this line (translated from Punjabi): “We trouble
you to give your full attention to the matter listed below”, quickly followed by: “as you
already are aware...” and signed off with phrases such as “all school administrator
related teachers may take note” or “consider it of utmost importance”. The responsibility
is squarely placed on the lower level policy actors and school administrators to follow
centrally designed policy prescriptions – consultation is not designed in the structure in
any way. I surmise that some feedback mechanism must be present for educators, but
the texts do not give any indication of that process – another way of communicating,
perhaps, that the system is complete and perfect as it stands.
5.4.9. Circular #19 – Admission in pre-primary classes 12/15/2018
In general, the Ministry’s policy directives have the effect of limiting the discretion
of school-level personnel by specifying various aspects of their duties. Occasionally,
however, they empower local educators, as in Circular 19 that seeks to encourage
student enrollment in government schools. The Director of Public Instruction (DPI)
directs the District Education Officers (DEO) as follows: “Section 8.0 -The Parho Punjab,
Paraho Punjab (Primary) teams, on behalf of the State are instructed to work by
providing support to focused schools in order to encourage enrolment, keeping in mind
that the State has declared its full support for this policy related initiative.” (Translated
from Punjabi). The Secretary of School Education (SSE) and the DGSE are both copied
on the circular, indicating the commitment and strength of the directive. Ensuring close
to home impact, distanced state policy actors lean on other state related local actors
(like government child care center workers and the School Management Committee)
whose engagement is encouraged in policy implementation processes. It should be
noted, however, that the lack of consultative processes identified with respect to the
previous circular applies to this one as well.
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5.4.10. Circular #15 -Admission of Students in Govt. Schools, 12/17/2018
Somewhat similarly, a policy circular by the office of the DGSE (#15) directs the
DEO, DIET Principals, BRP’s and DRP’s to take note that CMT’s and BMT’s will visit the
schools to inform the School Management Committees, parents and Panchayat
members (Panchayats are the fourth level of government in India), about State
Government initiated schemes and policies related to [inserted in English] Smart Class
rooms, E-content, English Medium, Free Education, Mid-Day-meals, Free Uniforms,
Free Text Books, Scholarship schemes. In this directive, direct reporting is purposefully
used in actual words: “The BRP and DRP’s shall provide a daily report to the Head
Office on the following email [email protected]”. The use of English
within Punjabi text is a norm that Indian English has taken as its rightful appropriation of
the language. Schemes such as the ones above are formulated in English from the
Centre and states adopt the schemes in English to ensure consistent use across the
nation.
5.4.11. Circular #181 - Parent Teacher Meeting, 7/28/2017
In looking at who was missing from the language planning and policy system, I
found few directives issued on direct involvement of parents (as the major stakeholders)
in the language policy cycle. The one relevant directive I studied (#181) directed all
schools to plan and hold timely and regular parent/teacher meetings (direction was
included about the fixed time) so that teachers could inform parents about student
successes and challenges. The DGSE office gave direction to the Heads of schools to
coordinate this task, in consultation with the DRP’s who were exhorted to be present at
these meetings and/or ensure the meetings were taking place. While it may seem very
useful for such an exercise to regularly take place in the local schools of the PSEB, the
need for a policy issuance by the high-level Director of SCERT indicates knowledge of a
structural shortfall in school engagement with parents of children in the schools,
especially in rural areas of Punjab, and this is borne out by the detailed wording of the
directive.
The circular explicitly stated the following (translated from Punjabi): “In regards to
this issue, the Ministry of Education has decided that the schools under the direction of
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the ruling government (the Raj) must on the last day of every month provide opportunity
to meet the parents. The meeting topics would include student progress, any challenges,
and information for parents on government policies and schemes currently implemented
in the schools.” Further, the circular especially points out the need for these meetings in
rural parts of the state, foregrounding the lower level of engagement by parents in those
areas who for various reasons may not be engaged in this formal manner in the public
education system. What gives away the lack of formal engagement is the following line
(translated from Punjabi): “To fully meet the intent of this directive, the Head of schools
in rural Punjab may employ the use of a loudspeaker at the local Gurudwara (Sikh
temple) to announce such meetings.”
There is an unacknowledged linguistic dimension to this policy directive. It can be
easily assumed that the vernacular of the religion (Sikh/Punjabi) would be employed and
brought to service for the purpose specified in the Gurdwara. Markedly absent is the
requirement or encouragement to do the same at Mandirs (Hindu temples/Hindi) or
Girjas (Christian churches/English) in their respective religiously coded languages. Here
again, then, we see a built-in bias towards the use of the Punjabi language even in a
matter that affects all children regardless of home language.
5.4.12. Circular # 40 – Punjab Transparency and Accountability in Delivery of Public Services Act 2018, 11/14/2018
In the one directive in the English language that came to my attention, the
Government of Punjab included guidelines for the appellate authorities providing
oversight to the Department of Education’s duties and responsibilities (# 40). The
directive is set out by the Secretary to the Government of Punjab – who is the head of
the entire government bureaucracy – and its inception is not in the PSEB - it is drafted
within the Department of Education (Ministry).
The directive states; “In exercise of power conferred under section 3 (1) and 3 (2)
of the Punjab Transparency and Accountability of Public Service Act, 2018 and all other
power enabling in this behalf the Governor or Punjab is please to authorize the following
Appellate Authority of the Department of School Education”. The highest bureaucratic
authority – the Secretary School Education (SSE) holds all but one of the appellate
authorities for the State. However, the SSE designates officers with the charge as
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assigned e.g. publication of text books. The weight of the directive is evident in ensuring
the notice reaches all the authorities in the PSEB in charge of school education. Since
no directives from the PSEB that make up part of this study are in English, it would
appear that the POLA 2008 is upheld in its intent with zeal and effort at the PSEB, but
the State generally has no such constraint. There is a disconnect between agency and
agent and semiosis as an integral element of the material processes. The legal system
at the Centre functions primarily in English, however in the State, Punjabi is the
language that the State is requiring for the business of the judiciary.
5.4.13. Circular # 42, Evaluation of pre-primary students, 11/10/2018
The Parho Punjab Project as a major initiative to implement Punjabi language in
public education also is apparent in the move by Punjab Government to create a new
route to initiate and implement the Project in Pre-Primary classrooms in the public-
school systems is espoused. The work of the policy moves from language-in-education
acquisition to learning the language through play for children between 3 and 6 years of
age.
The policy directives inform all DEO’s that learning outcomes designed by the
Ministry are to be fulfilled and that the reporting structure is through report cards that
teachers must fill out through observation only. No formal testing is envisioned (no
formal schooled learning of language) and teachers are encouraged to follow the
government policy which is mentioned twice in the opening of the policy directive. The
directive suggests the following: “The Government of Punjab is implementing early
education pre-primary classes. The Ministry of Education shall prepare and provide
leaning outcomes through which children will be encouraged to use play as the primary
tool for learning.” This policy directive discourse indicates the weight that current policy
makers are placing on early language acquisition, indicating a move towards changing
theories on language acquisition.
5.4.14. Overall commentary on the policy directive corpus
A noticeable absence in the 182 texts studied is the English and Hindi
languages. As previously noted, English is scarcely present in any of the PSEB policy
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directives (a total of 21 mentions), and Hindi was completely absent (other than in Hindi
syllabus Circulars # 147 and 173). The significant absence of both languages (and the
discourse communities for whom they provide a voice) in language policy directives
works to reproduce a State-sponsored hierarchy of linguistic political ideologies, social
relations, mother language consciousness and cultural values (in favour of Punjabi). In
my interpretation, this dimension of the policy texts reflects the hard fought for official
status of the Punjabi language at the State level, along with its MOI status in the public
education system. It is noteworthy that all Districts were included in the Punjabi
language directives, even those that are in the Hindi-speaking or Urdu-speaking belts. I
found no evidence of any retreat from or watering down of state language ideology
giving Punjabi primacy; frequently the POLA 2008 and the RTE Act were cited as the
background policy framework authorities for a given directive.
The circulars together paint a portrait of a sprawling system of PSEB-wide policy
actors, both in the field (district offices/schools etc.) and at the PSEB Mohali state office.
Directives from PSEB head office extoll the virtues of PPPP language training that is
designed to require vigilance, monitoring and compliance by many officials in the field.
Some directives go into the minutiae of monitoring by specifying the duties of field
educators, such as requiring them to keep mobile phone numbers of all Heads of
schools in their districts in order to record daily updates. The top heavy and highly
bureaucratized nature of such policy directives reflects a policy machine that is managed
by a small highly placed group of government actors. These actors come to the table
with pre-set ideas as to what outcomes will best serve the State’s interests. Power and
privilege are roundly present in the processes that produce these texts, and are
manifested both in terms of the contours of the text (its design), the position of the
author, the presence of other invisible interlocutors who hold power and prestige, and
the words utilized to give meaning to the texts.
Punjab language planning and policy decisions were developed post-
independence in Punjab by motivated ideology-driven politicians, and these were further
centralized within a bureaucracy, leaving little room for autonomous action or agency by
policy actors on the ground. The idea that “where you stand depends on where you sit”
fits the bureaucratic politics model where the position of the actor defines in what
manner (and by whom) the policies will be implemented. In choosing to analyze the
directives developed by the central bureaucracy, I did bias the study towards a top-down
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way of thinking about the policy system. At the same time, it seems fair to say that the
bureaucratic set up of PSEB is well designed for high level direction and low level
implementation, so to some extent the directives truly reflect the logic of the system. The
limitations of this study unfortunately precluded me from examining the role, agency and
power of lower-level administrators and local policy actors such as classroom teachers. I
would like to suggest that whatever significant or limited influence over policy and
practice that these actors can or do wield would be very interesting, but that is the
purview of another study. This study stops here and does not go any further towards
processes or outcomes of implementation.
The analysis of these education policy texts has provided a “window for exploring
how old forms of socio-economic inequity get (re)produced and legitimated under
changing institutional and cultural conditions” (Tollefson & Pérez-Milans, 2018, p. 729). It
is important not to limit the analysis’s attention only to current forms of social inequality,
but to be aware of their deep historical roots.
Blommaert’s (2010) ideas resonate with me in the Punjab context, when he
suggests that, “every act of language is an act that is grounded in historical connections
between current statements and prior ones ... connections that are related to the social
order and are thus not random but ordered” (2010, p. 138). His summary of the value of
critical discourse analysis, especially as a means of informing policy change, points to
what I have been aiming for in this thesis:
Discourse analysis should result in a heightened awareness of hidden power dimensions and its effects: a critical language awareness, a sensitivity for discourse as subject to power and inequality. Language to CDA is never a neutral object, it is subject to assessment, value-attribution, and evaluation and consequently it is subject to deep cleavages, forms of in-and exclusion and of oppression. The emancipatory potential of work on such inequalities in and through language deserves emphasis (2005, p. 34).
Blommaert, however, is skeptical about the causal role of language in creating
and maintaining inequality: “power relations are often predefined and then confirmed by
features of discourse” (2005, p. 59). In order to combat this criticism, I have developed a
multilayered approach and attempted to present India’s language planning and policy
(as it relates to Punjab) in a manner that has been critically threaded historically,
politically, culturally and communally through the recent and distant past, focusing on
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“institutional environments as key sites of research into the connections between
language, power and social processes” (Blommaert, 2005, p. 34). The local context of
this study assists in understanding both the competing and complementary interests
between state policy actors and language policies, and the complexity that surrounds
how planner’s direct language users to (re)claim their personal right to mother tongue
access. (Tollefson & Pérez-Milans, 2018; Hornberger, 2018; Hornberger, 2015;
Canagarajah, 2005). Policy actors mediate the interpretation and application of language
policies in Punjab government schools, allowing me to base my analysis “on the power
of language policy as a mechanism of hegemony (through CDA) with an understanding
of the power of language policy agents” (Johnson, 2018, p. 61).
5.5. Issues of language education in Punjab
In Section 5.2 I described how the Punjab Official Languages Act came to be
adopted in 1967. Article 3 of the Act stated simply that the official language of the State
of Punjab shall be Punjabi, and there were no other articles that made special reference
to the education system (see Appendix B) The POLA 2008 amendment is an important
administrative amendment, which adds greater precision to the scope of Article 3 and in
Article 8 creates a monitoring structure to oversee the implementation of the Act.
Relevant to education are the following clauses:
3-A. In all offices of the State Government, public sector undertakings, boards and local bodies and offices of the schools, colleges and universities of the State Government, all official correspondence shall be made in Punjabi.
8-A. The Director, Languages, Punjab or any of his officers authorized by him, may inspect any office of the State Government, public sector undertaking, board or corporation, and office of any school, college or university of the State government, to ensure the implementation of provisions of the sections 3 and 3-B of this Act. The office or official having custody of the records of the aforesaid offices, shall make such record available to the said Director of office for inspection.
Article 8-B of the 2008 POLA amendment establishes the State Level
Empowered Committee which is chaired by the Minister of Education. The Secretaries to
Government of both the Department of School Education and the Department of Higher
Education are members of the Committee. The Director, Languages is the convener of
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the Committee who reports directly to the Minister of Education and through him to the
Legislature.
Because of the overall minority status of Punjabi in India, through the Punjab
Official Languages Act policy planners are directed to ensure that the mother tongue is
maintained not only as the MOI in schools, but also as the medium of all official
communication regarding education (Punjabi is the sole language of communication at
the PSEB). The POLA 2008 is interpreted so as to require that all school and education
related documentation for the state (e.g. even signatures of teachers) must all be in
Punjabi. Not only is everything communicated to schools in Punjabi, but directives are
given to all schools that administrators and teachers must submit all their communication
(reports etc.) in Punjabi only. I surmise that it makes sense at one level, but on another
level, it seems draconian, given the multilingual nature of Indian Society. These kinds of
tensions are inherently laden in a society when the MOI is Punjabi and the language
permeates the infrastructure of the educational bodies that work to fulfill the MOI
requirement, even while society all around functions in different communities of
languages. The policy does not fully support social transformation and ignores language
functions for all its students as well as the sociocultural realities of the society for which it
is crafted.
Since Punjabi is the medium of instruction (MOI) in Punjab government
elementary schools as per India’s Three Language Formula, the first language taught to
any child is Punjabi; second in status is English, with Hindi as the third language chosen
by the state; and fourth and fifth languages are added as needed in certain areas (like
bordering towns to another state where the regional languages are important or towns
with high Muslim populations like Malerkotla where Urdu is the third language). The
PSEB is directed to promote Punjabi as the first language of instruction (MOI) in
government schools as well as a language subject, followed closely by English in grade
one and later by Hindi in grade three (as subjects only). No variations to this mandate
are tolerated in the government school system; and all schools are to follow the rules as
set above.
As a policy instrument of SSA, and implemented with the assistance of Pratham,
a non-governmental literacy organization, Parho Punjab directs regular (monthly) tests
for assessment of student knowledge for accurate level of placement in schools; SCERT
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provides the relevant self-reporting assessment tool. As well, SCERT is directed to
conduct seminars and training for teachers on how to promote the mother tongue
through new instructional techniques and its further development. To facilitate this, the
BRP and DRP work to develop a prescribed syllabus and text assignments which they
undertake with the assistance of subject experts. Subject teachers from schools are
assigned work at the PSEB offices to assist with syllabus design. While the syllabus
originates with government authorities, the DPI sends inspectors into the schools to
ensure that the syllabus is accessible and directs school officials that timely evaluation is
expected. The DPI’s department is also responsible for producing study materials, which
are consistently posted on Parho Punjab portals, and the DPI directs teacher training
through SCERT for effective pedagogical practices that support Punjabi language
learning.
English (as a subject) is offered in grade one in government schools across the
state with a goal to increase English language access and utilization, while maintaining
the Punjabi language’s primary position. Hindi is started in grade three – ensuring the
official language and the language of commerce are both available to the students early
within elementary education. Within this mix, however, there is a new and growing
demand for English from villages in rural Punjab, because access to information has
increased a hundredfold and in response the demand for English is growing at par with
India’s economic growth (Meganathan, 2011). This demand is also fueled by an increase
in personal wealth (and access to private schooling which favours English MOI), a need
for access to quality education, and increasing access to global markets (both for
production and consumption) (Dubey et al, 2009). The result is that English is now seen
in Punjab as the language of future success for youthful future generations to be able to
function in a competitive marketplace (for skills, jobs and goods like use of internet and
cell phones). Scholars, who research LPP in developing nation contexts, suggest that
English has taken on a highly privileged position in relation to other languages precisely
because it is perceived to produce greater socio-economic advantages (Mohanty,
2017b, Hornberger & Vaish, 2009; Phillipson, 1998, 2001; Dua, 1994). While the POLA
as a policy does not specifically prescribe acquisition of languages at certain grade
levels, bureaucrats have created policy directives that fulfill schooling language
demands by ensuring that Punjabi has primacy and English follows closely behind.
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Enrollments continue to increase dramatically in government schools due to
population growth. Private school numbers are up strongly as well, as India’s middle
class grows at an exponential rate. While India’s demographic dividend will reap future
rewards, today more than 50% of its 1.3 billion people are below the age of 25 and they
will all be looking for work. According to statistics from 2014-15 there were 296 million
students from grades IX – XII in senior secondary schools, only 34 million of whom went
on to post-secondary education. The average dropout rate was greatest for boys and
girls in secondary school (VII-X) at 17.93 and 17.79 respectively (Swarup, 2016). Like
other regions of India, the State of Punjab is faced with a growing population base of
young people with global demands and dreams, and while the Punjabi language MOI
commitment is to be applauded, the pressures of globalization will surely ensure a policy
rethink by bureaucrats and politicians alike.
As it is currently, all students (regardless of MOI) who enter the +2 grades of
secondary schooling (two years of school after grade 10) in Punjab are suddenly faced
with English as the medium of instruction in grade 11. This curriculum language shift has
created a need for the PSEB to provide effective learning in English in the earlier grades
to ensure continued success for the student. However, since all post-secondary
entrance exams are held in English in Punjab, students with low levels of English
invariably find it difficult to succeed in those tests. In 2016, the Minister of Education Mr.
Daljit Singh Cheema suggested that national level competitive exams should be in the
vernacular languages and pledged to have the syllabus translated into Punjabi for that to
occur (Times of India, 2016).
As a prosperous agricultural economy that demands large numbers of manual
labourers, Punjab attracts a significant migrant population of Hindi speaking workers
from other neighbouring northern states of India – mainly the close by states of Uttar
Pradesh and Bihar. For the children of these workers in rural Punjab that attend
government schools, Punjabi is not their mother tongue, resulting in initial difficulties
adjusting to Punjabi MOI. Extenuatingly, the State has directed that no student should
fail a class until grade V and even if they come into the school from another state, they
must be accepted in the same grade. Hindi and Punjabi are sister languages in that they
have Sanskrit as the mother language while Punjabi as borrowed also from Farsi, Urdu,
Prakrit and Pali. Generally Punjabi and Hindi languages as communities of practice exist
side by side in Punjabi society, and teachers would almost all be fluent in both (Punjabi
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language proficiency is a requirement), and thus, assisting Hindi speaking migrant
children to learn Punjabi is not a difficult task. Some of the difficulty arises when the
same children have limited learning participation from their parents who neither read nor
write the language (and may in fact be illiterate) even though the parents may become
orally fluent over time due to the environment and in the workplace.
India has a complicated reservation policy and related schemes where seats are
reserved in all public institutions for those with disadvantages and who face systemic
institutional discrimination. A list of Schedule Castes and Scheduled Tribes is maintained
by the Centre delineating who belongs in the category (e.g. backward class (BC) in order
for them to receive support. Punjab policy directives order schools to enforce the policy
as a joint Centre and State funded program (Scheme), allowing access to public
education by disadvantaged classes of student by providing cost-shared resources
(#182). Further to the schooling of reserved categories of students, the PSEB is bound
to follow similar hiring practices. A directive suggests, (translated from Punjabi),
“Keeping mind the natural state of the world, we assure the meritorious applicants from
the Reserved List that no discrimination/injustice has occurred, and as such the
Department has made a decision that those applications from the Reserved Category
List who were added to the General Category List in the Combined Merit Notice for now
will be added to the Reserved list according to merit”. The preamble of the directive
states that discrepancies were found in the development of the list and that once brought
to the attending of the Board needed rectification by public notice due to a writ petition
by the applicants. The socio-cultural inequities present within society and negatively
affecting Ministry of Education policy guidelines include recognition of the fact that those
with merit who came from the Reserved Category (Assamese, Hindi-speaking) were
“somehow” added to the combined list (which included the advantaged applicants) and
as such got short shifted in the process, since they had to compete with those who did
not face the same disadvantage (no knowledge of Punjabi being one). Since the PSEB
must maintain the Reservation Policy of the Government of India, it must find ways for
the Punjabi language (merit) or lack thereof be weighed against the public good (Circular
#182, Appointments of 244 Sikhya Providers, 5/15/2019)
While the social, moral and socio-religious aims of Punjabis to maintain Punjabi
as the language of education in the public system is established via public policy, its
ability to articulate its function as a state language desired by all is up for debate. If one
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of the central claims of language policy is to sustain/enhance the linguistic base, and the
political economy that comes with it, then Punjabi as a language has limited success as
English has a stronger hold. Punjabi’s symbolic strength cannot just be understood as
an articulation of its historical expression of function and form. The historical production
of particular types of discourse is of course laden with a contemporary need for
transformation – policy discourse in this instance is oriented towards language as a
necessary component of meaningful learning. Does the practice however of Punjabi in
the classroom as the MOI actively assist in creating relevant, personal experiences
(meaning making) for students in the public system? The next section brings the social
practice of the language into sharp relief.
5.6. Language ecology of Punjab
As introduced in Section 2.5, the concept of language ecology is useful for
thinking about the complex systems of competing interests and language behaviours
that uphold or challenge on a particular language policy framework, linking what ‘is’ to
what it ‘ought’ to be. Steps 3 and 4 in Fairclough’s (2001) analytical framework help me
consider whether the competing interests of minority and majority languages, domination
by languages of power and languages of identity, create a challenging socio-linguistic
ecological environment. Since Punjabi Sikhs are a national minority, their distinct history,
heritage, linguistic and cultural identity does much to define Punjabi society. Deol (2008)
states that, “The Punjabi-speaking Sikhs seemingly possess the classic ingredients of
nationality formation: a geographical region, an arena of history and language linked to
culture, and a religious ideology” (p.11). Thus, in Punjab, although language planning
forms part of a larger national project, in some ways it is distinct from that of India. Post-
independence, Congress’s ambition was always for Hindi to be the nationally unifying
language, and all of Punjab’s northern neighboring provinces have Hindi-speaking
majorities, impacting Punjab due to the flows of peoples, politics, goods and services.
The immense linguistic power of Hindi in Punjab and in northern India as a whole poses
problems for the maintenance of minority linguistic rights, especially in the light of
cultural, religious and economic stratification. The resulting inequitable society has its
own complex and multipronged response to issues and concerns of elitism, unequal
opportunities, and poor resources, which does necessarily follow the tracks that
language planners have laid down. But in the face of so much pressure, the PSEB
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perseveres as an agent of the State to ensure public policy on Punjabi language as the
MOI is maintained at the state level, even while ignoring the multivalent nature of a
multilingually diverse society.
A key aspect of this is the way in which English has been appropriated and
accommodated within existing socio-economic hierarchies (e.g. in private schools),
further accentuating them. The discourse of language planning and policy in Punjab
highlighted in this study shows how policy actors pay heed to how English has reached
the level of recognition as a language of power and opportunity in India and continue to
marginalize it in the public education system, keeping it at bay by including it as a
subject but not as the MOI. It could be said that its role and position in the public system
has steadily increased, but without the appropriately developed critical analysis in the
public sphere of its dominant power to surpass and challenge minority languages. The
lower socio-economic status of government school-going students provides them with
limited access to English as a language of power and prestige since it may not be a
language in the home even in a limited way. While the TLF has provided the foundation
for state policy development, public schools in Punjab are nevertheless feeling the
encroachment and supremacy of English all around them, reminiscent of the Orientalists
demands to educate Indians in English and to let the vernaculars languish.
It is evident that allegiance to Punjabi as the official language of the state and
majority mother tongue language of the region is almost guaranteed, with policy
directives that single-mindedly enforce and promote Punjabi language acquisition and
maintenance in the public-school education system. The contradiction in this ideal is that
due to linguistic diversity in Punjab, some of the student’s mother tongue (non-Punjabi)
may have to be sacrificed. However, this language policy model – though
understandable in light of the assimilative nature of dominant languages, the official
language status and support given to Hindi, and English’s strong position in the
economy and the two-tier education system of private schools and public schools – may
be critiqued in the light of Pattnayak’s (1988) argument that LPP does not work with a
goal to affect polylingual norms; rather the focus is on monolingual communities
(something POLA 2008 evidences)– which Khubchandani (1997) critiques as well. Rao
(2008) observes:
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Clearly the ruling elite at different times advanced arguments in favour of one language or the other, Such advocacy and support for a particular language may have solved some problems in the past in a nation that is fraught with linguistic politics and temporarily bridged the gaps between the national-regional; regional-sub-regional; sub-regional-minority groups…. But the long-term effects of such ill-thought out proposals are profound for the multilingual character of Indian society as they challenge the very survival of minority tongues in the country (p. 68).
Khubchandani’s (1997) pan-India study of MOI lists many challenges with a MOI
policy where the mother tongue is the medium over the entire education career of a
student. Firstly, he suggests that, “native speech may have little semblance with the
formal version of mother tongue that is taught in the classroom” (p. 182, 183). The range
of dialectical variation in Punjabi compared to the standard variety usually taught in
schools in also great in Punjab. The four main regions of Punjab – Majha, Doab, Puadh
and Malwa each has distinct patterns of language and so a standard variety of Punjabi
has been developed to cover all the dialects. Once children join school, they are forced
to adapt to standardized Punjabi for learning and assessment, although they may still be
conversant in their dialect and use it quite readily. The low and dialectical varieties are
not considered to be sophisticated enough for the standard language, so pressure to
adapt is great. Khubchandani is correct though in his second point that, “There is
heterogeneity of communication patterns around the student”, as Punjab’s language
ecology is rich and diverse and languages other than Punjabi play a part in the
education system and in the social lives of students. This poses a challenge to some
students who will need to be well versed in their mother tongue, Punjabi, Hindi and
English in order to interact with their world. Thirdly, with such a large migrant population
in Punjab (from other provinces), his third challenge is very pertinent: “Unequal
cultivation of mother tongue as medium of instruction” is an issue for children whose
mother tongue is different from the MOI. There are inherent disadvantages when
students learn in a language that is not their own (Daswani, 2001; Mohanty, 2005;
Pattanayak, 1981) suggesting that mother tongue acquisition almost always leaves a
richer residual effect on student achievement, especially when students experience their
languages in their communities and in the home on a daily basis.
Twenty-eight years ago, Fishman (1991) wrote that marginalized (minority)
languages have difficulty in strengthening their position because it requires cultural
communities to defend their rights and needs. In anticipation of the inadequacy of
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advocacy by minority groups and in an effort to minimize linguistic dominance, the TLF’s
aim was to give local/regional languages an important formal position in education
policies by integrating an official plural vision with the principle that, like the language
policy work undertaken in South Africa, “one language is incomplete without the other”
(Makalela, 2017, p. 527). However, Mohanty and Panda (2017) suggest that there is a
“double divide” between the regional/national languages, English and indigenous
languages with a vast and complex multilayered hierarchy which has led to,
“disadvantage, marginalization, language shift and the loss of linguistic diversity” (p.2).It
can be argued that the domination of the social order (hierarchy of languages) prevents
minority languages from surviving and then thriving.
Numerous scholars (e.g. LaDousa, 2005; Ramanathan, 1999; Kumar, 1993)
have claimed unequivocally that the colonially inherited English offers mobility in spatio-
economic realms only to the elite. The National Knowledge Commission (2009) states
that English is “beyond the reach” (p.27) of a large number of Indians and there is a high
degree of unequal access. In Chapter 3 I suggested that the systems of hierarchy and
privilege in Indian society have undermined the implementation of the TLF and blocked
progress on some of the founding principles of its language policy. In Punjab, although
the State language policy appears on the surface to be robust and in line with the TLF, I
could not help but observe that both the crafters of Punjab’s language policies and those
that are charged to implement them are stymied in their ability to ensure the efficacy,
importance, and consistency of the majority’s mother language acquisition, due to many
inefficiencies. The enduring socio-linguistic hierarchies in Punjabi society produce and
reflect unequal power relations and the historic communal tensions therein and unless
vigilance is undertaken, language planning and policy continues to contribute to the
relations of power and domination (Langer & Brown, 2008). Does the POLA 2008 refute
the realities of some of the people of Punjab by creating a monolingual policy that makes
little room for other languages to co-exist at some level with it? Or is it that the POLA
2008 protects a minority language in India that otherwise may not have had the political,
social, cultural and educational power it so desires? Resistance to the hegemonic
position of English and Hindi both within the state and outside it is evident in the strictly
regulated policy frameworks of the states, like that of the POLA in Punjab. The draft NEP
2019 (NEP, 2019) is suggesting that Hindi become mandatory in all schools in India,
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foregrounding political strife in Tamil Nadu (south of India), where Hindi is not included
as part of the language system,
Such contradictions between an espoused language policy and realities on the
ground are a common feature in studies of LPP, as Fishman (1996) suggests:
For one thing, there is usually a difference between the policy as stated (the official, de jure or overt policy) and the policy as it actually works at the practical level (the covert, de facto or grass-roots policy). This may result from some historical change, for example, increase in numbers or political power of a formerly insignificant minority, such as by immigration, demographics (birth rate), or conquest of territory. But alas, the ‘fit’ between language policies and the polities for which they have been devised are rarely appropriate, and in actual practice a typology of policies would look very different from a typology of the multilingual states that they have been applied to (p.2).
To better understand these contradictions as they play out in Punjab’s
educational system, more empirical studies are needed of patters and communication
and language acquisition in a variety of school settings. Khubchandani, drawing on a
wide range of experience and the existing literature, pointed out twenty years ago, which
holds true even today:
One notices a wide gap between the language policies professed and actual practice in a classroom. It is not unusual to find in many institutions anomalous patterns of communication where the teacher and the taught interact in one language, classes are conducted in another, textbooks are written in a third and answers are given in a third language/style (Khubchandani, 1997, p. 183).
After partition, politically anxious Punjabi Sikhs were wise to insist on Punjabi (in
the Gurmukhi text) as the official language of the state for its linguistically vulnerable
people in 1967. However, the subsequent fifty years of policy implementation has been
largely managed by policy actors with a top-down approach, becoming more and more
far removed from the genesis of the political struggles and on-the-ground realities of the
society around them. It would behoove policy planners to work on further applying the
right kind of interventions towards the language in the face of aforementioned inequities.
In keeping with my analysis for social change in Punjab, I envision a more
emancipatory version of language policy where policy actors would develop better
linguistic responses to demographically defined mother tongue needs (migrant families)
even while recognizing regional linguistic strengths of the Punjabi language as the
127
language of both the main religion of the region, its people and of the cadre of
administrators. Policy actors would actively reflect upon the Punjabi language’s own
position of power that affects class, economic status and upward mobility in Punjab.
Theoretically, an emancipatory linguistic ideal would ensure each child’s dialogical
agency while preserving diverse cultural identities and psycho-social interactions with
diverse language groups. An application of that ideal outcome is where language policy
creates a, “set of positions, principles and decisions reflecting that community’s
relationships to its verbal repertoire and communicative potential” and language planning
understands “a set of concrete measures taken within language policy to act on linguistic
communication in a community, typically by directing the development of its languages”
(Bugarski, 1992, p. 18). Policy planners for Punjabi language implementation and
maintenance in Punjab need to critically examine inherent power differentials in low and
high context language in the regions and create results through the liberating power of
transformational curriculum, pedagogy and impact of an equitable and inclusive
education for all. This is even more critically important since political decisions that
create policies in the first place, serve the welfare of the majority all the while validating
their historic positions.
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Conclusion
As a young child my exposure to languages was intense and diverse, but at the
time the intensity seemed very organic and languages were absorbed and interacted
without any critical analysis on my part. A critical perspective only revealed itself much
later in life when I had to make personal choices about language acquisition (for my
children) and I began to question core ideas about retention of mother tongue, the role of
formal education, the hegemony of English, the inequitable power of language(s),
language planning and policies and their implementation, etc. I slowly became aware,
‘‘that policies often create and sustain various forms of social inequality, and that
policymakers usually promote the interests of dominant social groups’’ (Tollefson 2006,
p. 42).
My own linguistic schooling was a direct result of language planning and policy in
the Indian context, which was locally bound, yet informed by elitist ethnolinguistic
nationalism within a post-colonial context. Heller (2011), in her critical ethnography on
language and identity, suggests that discursive spaces are worthy of analysis, where
“ideologies are developed, contested, or reproduced in connection with the production
and circulation of resources and of the regulation of access to them” (p. 41). As a
reflexive researcher I have been transformed by the research, both in my identity as a
multilingual speaker with privilege and as a person seeking social change in my
everyday life. The ideal values I carried with me as I sought out the very language
planning and policy processes that shaped my life were brought into question when I
reflected upon the inequities present in the policy implementation mechanisms in
government school system in Punjab. This study is a reflection of my deeper
understanding of the historical and structural inequities inherent in language policy
planning and implementation, and of the fine-grained complexities of the Punjabi
context. In stage 5 of Fairclough’s (2001) analytical framework, I turn back on my own
critique to evaluate its effectiveness and to reflect critically on the analysis. I am aware of
my own insider/outsider position and make the effort not to let my own bias affect my
analysis.
129
I have critically analyzed the management and directive power of discourse in
policy texts with a goal to understand language ideologies present in Punjab that have
historical antecedents in India’s post-independence language rights movements. The
larger socio-linguistic realities of the state of Punjab are reflected in policy directives that
are silent on the linguistic needs of other minority languages in the area, causing me to
surmise that there is room for some more inclusionary practices. English’s hegemonic
position in Punjab has been kept at bay with policy sanctioned and protected Punjabi
MOI that is enforced with strength and vigour, leaving me to question how long this will
continue in the new world order where India has become a global power. Applying
critical social analysis using historical structural inquiry about India’s language planning
and policy processes has led me to conclude that the goals of its Three Language
Formula in terms of corpus, status and acquisition planning have met with some success
in the Punjab region (the area of my study) through the planning and policy bureaucratic
machinery. Keeping in mind that policy formulation, codification, elaboration and
implementation (Fishman, 1971, Tollefsen, 1991) are all a part of the historical textual
analysis, my investigation of Punjab’s public policy arena has furthered the question
about what kinds of circumstances are necessary for minority language groups to ensure
that their language-in-education needs are met. And what limitations do they encounter,
even if the circumstances are favourable? I am critical of the power and privilege of
policy actors in the state education system who are ideologically bound to their state
policy. I did not evidence many contradictions to the public policy ideology that
contributed to the social emancipation of inequities. It can be argued that Punjabi as a
minority language in its own emancipatory position is creating space for a language that
holds within it an ethos of fighting linguistic oppression. If the draft NEP 2019 (NEP
2019) can suggest that the languages of many children need to be included in the school
repertoire, Punjab must take heed and make inclusionary language practices as part of
its policy framework.
Historically, India’s post-Independence response to decolonization of education
was mired in complex systems of ideology and political struggle. On the one hand,
enforced secularism and egalitarianism were central to the political vision of the ruling
dominant Westernized Congress party members, and on the other, the excesses pf
Hindu nationalism and various forms of classism/casteism were powerful forces at the
time, along with the ambitions of the local elites in the various newly carved autonomy
130
craving states. This was the context that led to languages being mapped onto majority-
identity-focused geographical boundaries without much consideration to local state
concerns, even while English (the language of the colonist) retained its central
supremacy. In addition to the fundamentally important diversity of the country, the
political north-south divide was evident in the language policy debates that carried on for
post 1947.
Language policy and planning post-independence was all undertaken in a very
short time in the first several years within the urgent and expansive processes of
postcolonial nation-building (Sheth, 2018; Ramanthan, 1998; Pennycook, 1998;
Canagarajah, 1997; Phillipson, 1992). While a newly independent India was certainly not
to be faulted for drawing linguistic lines in a manner that politicians thought would help
evade any anticipated communal strife based on religious affiliations to languages, the
whole effort failed to take account of people’s own self-understandings and experiences.
Over the last seventy plus years since Independence, India’s language policy in
the form of the Three Language Formula has been unevenly implemented in the
country’s educational landscape. The TLF on the surface signifies the interests of Hindi
(as a language with a goal of uniting India), English (as the language of power,
commerce and scientific inquiry) and regional languages (in support of linguistic
diversity), However, right from the beginning it has been an effective smokescreen for
the ongoing support of latent colonial ideas and globalization by giving lip service to
diversity while in fact leaving the door open to the increasing hegemony of English and
the potential hegemony of Hindu nationalism. As well, I would argue that it has been a
thoroughly elitist policy and has never intended to address the great linguistic diversity
with each language group and their interests as many fourth and fifth-tier languages
have languished from neglect. As Mohanty (2019, 2006) claims that while indigenous
and tribal languages are part and parcel of Indian societies, there is great uneven
standing of their educational status.
Due to the largely accepted view of the uneven implementation of the TLF in the
state of Punjab and in India per se, I support Laitin’s (1989) conclusion that the Three
Language Formula is at best a 3+/-1 language policy whereby +1 occurs when classical
languages such as Sanskrit, and regional languages such as Kannada, Tamil and
Telegu are added to English as the regional language options and Hindi is completely
131
ignored (mostly in the south). At the same time -1 occurs in Hindi speaking regions
(mostly in the north) that only teach Hindi and English and ignore the directive to teach a
third language and might instead teach a European language. In both versions of the
policy, the hegemony of the English language in post-colonial India remains a stubborn
fact. Indeed, the National Knowledge Commission (NKC) report of 2006-2009 seems to
revert back to the historic Orientalist view: “An understanding and command over the
English language is a most important determinant of access to higher education,
employment possibilities and social opportunities. School-leavers who are not
adequately trained in English as a language are always at a handicap in the world of
higher education” (NKC, 2006, p.32). Rao (2008) comments:
If the advocacy of English education by the NKC Report (2006) is any indication, the existence of all Indian languages other than English are rendered redundant in educational contexts and the newer generations of linguistic minorities will be deprived of even the oral skills in their native tongue (p.67).
The National Education Policy (2019) draft that was recently released to MHRD
on May 31, 2019 (chaired by Dr. K. Kasturirangan) provides for reforms for all levels of
education. This policy document makes a pitch to policymakers towards a shift for local
language acquisition.by suggesting that children learn their home language till grade 5
and if possible, till grade 8 and students who wish to change one or more languages
may do so in grades 6 or 7 as long they can demonstrate proficiency. And yet again, the
TLF received no change: “The three language formula, followed since the adoption of
the National Policy on Education 1968, and endorsed in the National Policy on
Education 1986/1992 as well as the NCF 2005, will be continued, keeping in mind the
Constitutional provisions and aspirations of the people, regions, and the Union” (p. 81).It
makes no changes to the National Curriculum Framework at this time and promises a
revised updated document by 2020. The Policy does not clearly speak to the strength of
English and its hegemonic position and misses an opportunity to address the very
structural damage that English has made to India’s many languages.
Regardless of national policy rhetoric, in Punjab, public education’s policy
support and strict adherence to Punjabi MOI has prevented a continuous loss of the
mother tongue. However, the competing private system’s English MOI (with its inherent
power and privilege), and the dominance of English in the post-secondary system,
undermines the Punjabi language’s full adoption in the state. It is true that India’s
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language policy and framework has adapted to the needs of its states’ citizens (as in
Punjab), and the changing demands of both the aspirations of its increasingly well-
educated citizens and the effects of globalization from the 1990’s onwards to the
present. However, the survival of minority languages within the globalized new order,
and the needs of people from lower socio-economic strata of society for equal education,
require deeper engagement and better strategies for public education on the part of the
Centre and the State for its people.
Brass (2004) suggests the following preliminary schemata of vernacular
empowerment and disempowerment:
Lower-level elite (writers, teachers, lower rung bureaucrats) promotion of the vernacular, inculcating > linguistic narcissism, creating > a movement for self-respect, and > group recognition, > identifying the language of the dominant as alien, enslaving, and (sometimes) corrupt, leading to >language purification, and > official recognition of the vernacular, displacement of the alien, enslaving language, and empowerment of the formerly powerless
The movement in the other direction may be encapsulated as follows:
Dominant elite defence of the language of rule as the most fit instrument for communication and modernity and as the repository of the glories of the people’s high culture > disparagement of the vernaculars as unfit and uncouth > acceptance of the vernaculars as fit only for primary and secondary education, good enough for the masses, for whom education in the elite language will remain unattainable > continued use of the elite language at the highest official levels, against all competitors > and retention of the power of the upper class, upper caste users in government and/or in the global network of intellectual and corporate power (p.368)
I contend that both of these movements are visible in the Punjabi context. My
research clearly indicates that highly influential and bureaucratized policy actors in the
Punjab School Board of Education provide directives for Punjabi language acquisition
and maintenance in direct support of the Punjabi Official Languages Act, a politically
charged document whose historical antecedents are squarely placed in the political
struggle against oppression and language rights. However, the current policy planning
directives do not directly respond to the political struggles of the past, although they
continue to produce directives that reproduces the ideologies of the state. Policy actors
responsible for critical decisions about the structure of language, its application,
acquisition and maintenance do not take into account the on-the-ground realities might
133
be different from the theoretical frameworks of policy planning, or from the historical
context in which the policies were developed. In Punjab policy makers must now work to
reconcile a vernacular language policy with the pressures of a globalized English
hegemony and the regional economic and demographic presence of Hindi speaking
migrants, and attempt to provide language learning opportunities that are in competition
with forces outside their control (Menken & Garcia, 2010). Even while these pressures
are ever present, the realities of linguistically diverse students in the education system
might be at odds with the policy directives that uphold Punjabi’s premier position without
taking into account the linguistic demographic shift in Punjab due to its migrant labour
force. The larger national demands of policy fulfillment due to the centralized nature of
the education mandate, policy makers report to two masters (albeit that these two
masters have somewhat complimentary policy agendas).
Unlike the context of familial socialization in Punjab, which still strongly favours
Punjabi for most individuals, institutional socialization is “linked with national and
international ideologies, discourses and policies” (Tollefson & Pérez-Milans, 2018, p.8).
This leads to measures such as the introduction of English at the grade one level, before
the mother tongue has had a chance to be fully developed. I deduce that to maintain a
minority language in a country besieged by linguistic nationalism and the pressures of
globalization, new approaches to LPP are needed.
The planners and implementers of LPP must consider that the people they aim
to reach “are not merely disembodied life forms embedded in discursive systems, but
rather as concrete human beings with substantial and inescapable material needs”
(Pérez-Milans & Tollefsen, 2018, p.731). I am pressed to question whether Indian
language policy planners have truly considered how a language is to survive if home
language transmission is ignored in minority language contexts (e.g. due to internal state
labour migration or other reasons). More holistic approaches to language maintenance
and revitalization are surely desirable, combined with efforts made for community
language development and greater advocacy for families of minority language speakers
(e.g. Punjab’s migrant children) alongside the native language speaker. This kind of
social change in a country as linguistically diverse as India must respond to place and
time as well as to politics and circumstance. While the Three-language Formula was
created out of stressful political bargaining within the complex social struggle for national
unity, it left the door open to the rise of unattainable aspirations in the language policy
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arena, such as Punjab’s goal of providing both linguistic command of a regionally
invested language and the linguistic means for upward social and economic mobility, in
the face of competing languages that have greater clout and prestige and the persistent
inequalities of access experienced by lower socio-economically placed constituents.
In order to revitalize mother tongue acquisition, retention and maintenance, I
suggest that the TLF has to actively support the economic and social implications of MOI
and provide directives for better infrastructure, linguistic and pedagogical supports for
government schools to match the private school attraction for parents as mediums for
future success around “language privileges, cultural prestige, and socio-economic
mobility” (Khubchandani, 1978, p. 14). It appears from a study of policy frameworks in
education that the TLF still sits on the sidelines of the recent Indian National Education
Policy (2019) and is referred to in patronizing terms and given historical deference
without really giving it the true analysis it requires. Instead, the rhetoric continues in this
vein:
Implementation of the three-language formula: The three-language formula will need to be implemented in its spirit throughout the country, promoting multilingual communicative abilities for a multilingual country. However, it must be better implemented in certain States, particularly Hindi speaking States; for purposes of national integration, schools in Hindi speaking areas should also offer and teach Indian languages from other parts of India. This would help raise the status of all Indian languages, the teachers of such languages, and the literature of such languages, and would open positions and increase opportunities for language teachers across the country; it would of course also truly expand horizons and enlarge the range of opportunities for graduating students (p. 83).
I recommend that India’s language planning and policy must be relatable (and
responsive) with language practices for it to have a full impact. Not only in Punjab, but all
over India, implementation of TLF has been largely inconsistent (Mohanty, 2019a;
National Council for Educational Research and Training, 2006). It is true that the Indian
political elites since Independence have been vigilant about any regression in language
policy implementation, resulting in the TLF policy framework never having been tinkered
with since its inception (as evidenced in NEP, 2019). At the same time, state education
policies find ways to bolster their particular languages to meet their own needs, without a
full acceptance of national or local minority voices. However, the impact of globalization,
continuing societal inequities, minority language vulnerabilities, political swings,
movements of people across linguistic borders etc. have all contributed to contribute to
135
the difficulties of fully implementing the TLF in a form that fulfils the diverse demands of
a complex linguistic population, and Punjab is no exception. Looking forward requires a
thorough rethinking and reorientation of LPP at both the Centre and State levels by
politicians and bureaucrats who are entrusted with language policy planning
responsibilities. I acknowledge that it is challenging to find the will required to combat the
pressures of the powerful elite who work to maintain the status quo and to find ways to
transform LPP within the value laden hierarchical societies in India. But it must be done
in order for language planning and policy to be part of the important changes occurring
in a fast-changing world and to help provide relief and support to the margins where
inequity finds itself bereft of support and sustenance.
In my study I have shown the deliberate work of LPP to affect the structure and
function of languages “with changes in the system of language code or speaking or both
that are planned by organizations that are established for such purposes or given a
mandate to fulfill such purposes” (Rubin & Jernudd, 1971, p. xvi). This very deliberate
work is evident in India’s polyglot and in Punjab in particular as a case study. Furthering
the cause are broad policy actors amongst the formal state authorities in Punjab who
work to influence the “behaviour of others with respect to the acquisition, structure, or
functional allocation of their language codes” (Cooper, 1989, p. 45). India’s national
language planning and policy goals have withstood the test of time with the TLF still
standing in its original form, which seems considerably short-sighted considering the
amount of change that has occurred and is still occurring on the sub-continent.
This study has shown that India’s LPP was enacted in institutions along with the
processes of nation building, nationalism, political integration of the country, and the
difficulties of meeting diverse linguistic needs of its citizens. Certain inequities inherent in
any society (and India is not immune from them) are prevalent even today and the policy
frameworks attempts to address certain inequities have not measured up. Minority
languages continue to languish and bureaucracy driven policy responses have not found
nation-wide responses to a moral imperative to meet the needs of the country’s
populace. This might be the weakest flaw in the language planning and policy framework
of India as it continues to work with issues of language, culture and identity.
As I undertook the critical work for useful analysis of policy texts directed by
policy actors, I took care to ensure (and combat any misunderstandings) that the texts
136
were attributable to individuals in the system (albeit anonymously) as, “critical
approaches investigate the (usually) open pursuit of policy goals that are in line with the
responsibilities, roles and authorities of powerful institutions, groups and individuals who
dominate the policymaking processes” (Tollefson & Pérez-Milans, 2018, p. 728).
Reflecting on critical discourse analysis as an inductive approach to study how policy
discourse sustains and reproduces power in the Punjab public school’s system context, I
was struck by the role of policy actors as “gatekeepers to discursive resources” (Mullet,
2018, p. 117). Partially, in India global forces pre and post-independence have produced
a closely guarded mentality of law makers to protect that which was lost/stolen in the
colonization processes. As a result, globalization has been slow to reach post-colonial
India - liberalization of the economy did not occur until the 90’s. At this time the goal of
policymakers was to make the economy more market and service oriented. I recognize
that the dominant concept of CDA is to uncover hidden power relations in discourse (van
Dijk, 1993), but I would add to its theoretical underpinnings by including the effect of
market forces on language policy in the context of this study. I would suggest that
modifying CDA’s approach to include the effect of external market forces on language
planning and policy would provide insight on some of the reasons for production of the
policy text. For example, in Punjab, for English to take precedence over Hindi as the
second language in public schools is driven by the need for early education for Punjabi
students in the language of business, commerce and government. In today’s economic
landscape, market forces do play an integral role in language education in Punjab,
although it might be contested vigorously by the public system that public schooling is
not driven by the financial mechanism of market force in the same manner that private
schooling is structured.
As part of my analysis I recommend that future research is required to address
the tensions inherent in the continuing positioning of English as the language with power
while the social reality is quite different in a multilingual state and nation. While
constitutional provisions have safeguarded the language rights of India’s minorities, a
better response through policy provisions to combat the limited access to their mother
tongue by linguistic minorities is much needed. Further strengthening of language
planning and policy directives needs to be undertaken within for example, the National
Curriculum Frameworks, the National Education Policies and the Right to Education Act
to ensure that English’s hegemonic role does not disrupt the multilingual orientation of
137
most Indians to a point of no return. Inconsistencies between declared policies and de
facto policies and practices are quite widespread in India and it is a sad testament when
Mohanty (2019a) suggests that language policies actually implemented versus what is
enshrined in law proves that sociolinguistic hierarchies have prevailed in disadvantaging
those in the margins (like non-English MOI students, tribal minorities, etc.). A result of
these inequities is the continued emphasis on dominant languages and the neglect of
the minority vernacular with Mohanty (2019b) concluding that, “Effective education of
linguistic minorities needs both macro- and micro-level changes in language-in-
education policy and in educational practices” (p.7).
Seventy-two years after Independence, much has changed in the Indian political
landscape, however, a recurring theme has been the support for English as a language
of power and the political support for Hindi as an official language. While more
languages have been added to the schedule (from 14 – 22), marginalized languages
have not been afforded the same political support to make them sustainable and viable.
As well, language planning and policy has continued to be a top-down process with
institutionalized directives managed by highly placed bureaucrats that ensure the
implementation of political interests. The processes of decision making are still well
entrenched within highly centralized hierarchically bound bureaucratic structures, various
agencies at different levels and hierarchically bound. Further research on how to
encourage more grassroots involvement in language policy and planning in Punjab
would be useful.
Multilingual education is well developed in the public-school system in Punjab,
however the low status accorded to vernaculars is present in Punjabi society as well and
English still holds a strong position as a language of upward mobility for Punjabis.
Globalization impacts are also being felt in Punjab in both rural and urban communities
and it is important for the state to strengthen Punjabi’s position as a language that
contributes to the economy of the state as a complimentary language to English and to
find ways to safeguard any further encroachments. If Punjab is a case study of how a
small state which has a strong religio-political language tradition has to remain vigilant to
combat the hegemony of English and Hindi in its larger state-wide policy frameworks,
then what is the future of those states who do not have the same language strength? It
is important to understand and analyze that while Punjabi is the MOI and first language
of instruction in public schools, how English has been able to gain ground as a desired
138
language of prestige and status in complimentary education systems in the state and
country (way past what was felt might be its post-colonial impact and continuing internal
choice and demand).
The limitations of this study preclude a full summation of vernacular language
planning and policy impact on other parts of India, except for acknowledging the
country’s complex geographic, cultural and linguistic diversity. While I suggest that
languages plays a great role in social stratification in Punjab between Government
schools where the vernacular is the MOI (lower status) and the English MOI private
schools (higher status) and policy directives provide interventions and supports to
maintain Punjabi language MOI in Government schools, but because India does not
have a unified language-in-education policy for a common system of education, it
provides parents with a choice of a variety of Boards of Education in each province,
some of whom do not embrace vernacular MOI. I was limited in my study of only the
State Board of Education for Punjab (the PSEB), and thus could not provide in-depth
results on how the other Boards implement language policies and their role in promoting
the vernacular languages of the state. Multilingual education does not just have linguistic
impact, there are many socio-political affected connotations (like caste, religion) which I
could not study, but which may further complicate in India’s case its linguistic diversity
and social inequities. While India’s great linguistic diversity is quite unique for a unified
nation, there are many inequities that plague its vast regions and I could not analyze
them as part of this study.
As well, because I was only studying language policy directives in Punjab (textual
analysis), it precluded my ability to understand the human dimensions of policy
implementation by policy actors, administrators and educators in Punjab and their
understandings of impact and effect within the big machine of public education. In order
to undertake a textual policy implementation study, I avoided the need to interview policy
actors themselves who developed and implemented the policies for language instruction
in public education in Punjab. In hindsight, their considered insights would have been
invaluable to the thesis results and my own learning.
139
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160
Appendix A. List of Authorities
Table A.1. Officers from Directorate Public Instructions (Elementary Education) Punjab (S.C.O.31, Sector 17 E)
Name Designation Dr. Sadhu Singh Randhawa Director Public Instruction Mrs Pankaj District Education Officer Mr. Jaswinder Nayyar Cluster Master Teacher Mrs. Sushma Kansal Block Master Teacher
Table A.2. Directorate General Secondary Education (S.C.O. 104-106, II and III floor, Sector 34-Chandigarh)
Name Designation Mr. Baldeo Purushartha Director General Secondary Education
Table A.3. Sarva Sikhia Abhiyan Authorities (S.C.O. 104-106, II and III floor, Sector 34-Chandigarh)
Name Designation Mr. Balwinder Singh State Project Director (SPD) under Parho Punjab
project by SSA Mr. Suresh District Coordinator - Cluster Teachers
Table A.4. Officers from District Education Office (DEO) Elementary, Phase 2, Mohali
Name Designation Mrs. Surjeet Kaur Block Resource Person Mrs. Sunita District Resource Person
Table A.5. Officer from Block Primary Education Office (BPEO) Phase 3B, Mohali
Name Designation Mr. Rashpal Singh Block Primary Education Officer
161
Appendix B. Punjab Official Language Policy
Source: http://www.lawsofindia.org/pdf/punjab/1967/1967PN5.pdf
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
Appendix C. Eighth Schedule of Indian Constitution
Source;
file:///C:/Users/Visitor.WBFHOME/Desktop/March%2019%20ph/EIGHTH-
SCHEDULE%20of%20India.pdf
172
173
174
Appendix D. Article 343 of the Indian Constitution
https://web.archive.org/web/20120131144815/http://lawmin.nic.in/olwing/coi/coi-
english/Const.Pock%202Pg.Rom8Fsss(23).pdf
175
176
177
178
179
180
Appendix E. PSEB Policy Directives
PSEB Policy Directives ** for this thesis Circular# Policy directive Date Authority
1 Edusat Schedule January 2019 12/28/2018 DGSE 2 Reversion orders BPEO Nakodar - 1
Jalandhar 12/27/2018 DPI-EE
3 D.P.Ed. Datesheet Semester-1 Session 2018-19
12/22/2018 SCERT/DPI
4 Regarding National Mathematics Day 12/20/2018 SCERT **5 Model Test Paper Class 8th Science 12/20/2018 SCERT
6 Regarding Handwriting and writing skills competitions
12/20/2018 EDUSAT
7 Regarding IELTS Project | Study Material 12/19/2018 SCERT 8 Use of Learning Outcomes in Schools of
Class 1st to 8th || Learning Outcomes 12/18/2018 SCERT
9 Sample Paper 10th Class SST 12/17/2018 SCERT **10 Sample Paper 10th Class English 12/17/2018 SCERT **11 Sample Paper 12th Class Political
Science 12/17/2018 SCERT
**12 Sample Paper 12th Class Geography 12/17/2018 SCERT **13 Sample Paper 12th Class English 12/17/2018 SCERT **14 Sample Paper 12th Class Economics 12/17/2018 SCERT **15 Admission of Students in Govt. Schools 12/17/2018 DGSE/SCERT **16 Sample Paper 8th Class SST 12/17/2018 SCERT **17 Sample Paper 8th Class English 12/17/2018 SCERT
18 Dr Hargobind Khurana Scholarship Scheme
12/17/2018 DPI-SE
**19 Admission in Pre-primary classes 12/15/2018 DPI 20 Participation of School Children in
Republic Day Celebration 12/13/2018 SCERT
21 Defending Civil Appeals in Courts on behalf of Punjab state
12/13/2018 SSE
22 Sample Model Test paper of Punjabi Subject for 12th Class
12/11/2018 SCERT
23 Sample Model Test paper of Math Subject for 12th Class
12/11/2018 SCERT
24 Meeting through Edusat regarding Smart Schools
12/10/2018 SCERT
25 Revised Answer Keys NTSE 2018 (MAT & SAT)
12/7/2018 SCERT
181
26 Monthly Syllabus Distribution Class 5th 12/6/2018 SCERT 27 Model Test Paper SA2 Punjabi Class 8th 12/4/2018 SCERT 28 Model Test papers for Class 8th SA2 11/28/2018 SCERT 29 School Level Test of Udaan Project 11/28/2018 SCERT 30 Meeting of DMs Math under Padho
Punjab 11/28/2018 SCERT
31 Guidance committee of Schools 11/26/2018 DGSE 32 Regarding hihger education of teachres 11/26/2018 DPI-SE 33 Corrections of PSTET Result 2017 11/26/2018 SCERT 34 Revised DDO Powers 11/26/2018 DPI-SE 35 Question Booklet PSTSE 2018
(10th) || Answer Keys 11/16/2018 SCERT
36 Question Booklet PSTSE 2018 (8th) || Answer Keys
11/16/2018 SCERT
37 NMMS Question Booklet and Answer Keys
11/16/2018 SCERT
38 Regarding Molik and likhat competitions 11/16/2018 SCERT 39 Writing competitions at school level 11/15/2018 SCERT
**40 Punjab Transparency and Accountability Public Service Act 2018
11/14/2018 SSE
41 Punjab State Talent Search Examination 2018
11/13/2018 SCERT
**42 Evaluation of pre-primary students 11/10/2018 SCERT 43 Public notice regarding PSTET
Certificates 11/6/2018 SCERT
44 School level competitions of Govt. School Students
11/3/2018 SCERT
45 Public notice regarding NMMS Exam 11/3/2018 SCERT 46 Public notice regarding migration of
DIET Students 11/3/2018 SCERT
47 Answer Key NMMS Mock Test of 30th & 31st Oct. 2018
10/31/2018 SCERT
48 Competition for Students at School Level 10/31/2018 SCERT 49 NMMS Mock Test (SAT) || NMMS
Answer Sheet 10/30/2018 SCERT
50 3rd Monthly test of Udaan Project 10/29/2018 SCERT 51 Handwriting Competition at School Level 10/29/2018 SCERT 52 Answer Keys for NTSE 2nd Mock Test 10/29/2018 SCERT 53 IELTS Training of Teachers 10/29/2018 SCERT 54 » NTSE 2nd Mock Test (MAT) 10/29/2018 SCERT 55 » NTSE 2nd Mock Test (SAT) 10/29/2018 SCERT 56 Syllabus distribution and test series for
11th and 12th Class 10/25/2018 SCERT
57 NMMS Mock Test Answer Keys 10/25/2018 SCERT
182
58 Regarding Mock Tests for NTSE and NMMS 2018
10/25/2018 SCERT
59 Mock Test for NMMS Exam 2018 (Part 2)
10/25/2018 SCERT
60 NMMS Mock Test and Sample OMR Sheet
10/22/2018 SCERT
61 Mock Test (English) 10/22/2018 SCERT 62 Regular visits of schools by Sikhya
Sudhar Teams 10/17/2018 SCERT
63 Public Notice regarding registration of NTSE State-1 Exam.-2018
10/17/2018 SCERT
64 Participation of students in District and State Level Competitions
10/16/2018 SCERT
65 Mid Test of 1st to 5th Class Students under Padho Punjab
10/16/2018 SCERT
66 Public Notice regarding PSTET 2018 10/15/2018 SCERT 67 Mock Test for NTSE 2018 || Answer
Keys for NTSE Mock Test 10/15/2018 SCERT
68 Regarding preparation of IELTS modules 10/12/2018 SCERT 69 Migration of D.El.Ed. Students studying
in DIETs 10/12/2018 SCERT
70 Interest of students for Library books 10/12/2018 SCERT **71 Implementation of Buddy Group System
in Schools 10/12/2018 SCERT
72 Schedule of School visits by Sikhya Sudhar Teams
10/9/2018 SCERT
73 Regarding English subject IELTS Training 10/5/2018 SCERT 74 Tender for undertaking PSTET 2018 10/5/2018 SCERT 75 Question bank for differently abled
children 10/5/2018 SCERT
76 Regarding validity of PSTET Test Results 10/4/2018 SCERT 77 Meeting of committee members to
prepare Roadmap for IELTS training 10/4/2018 SCERT
78 Period adjustments for State Resource Group members
9/21/2018 SCERT
79 Endline Testing of class 6th To 8th for English subject
9/21/2018 SCERT
80 Motivational training of teachers (4th group)
9/21/2018 SCERT
81 Regarding discontinuing of Udaan Sheets due to September Exams
9/20/2018 SCERT
82 Regarding verification of TET Certificates 9/20/2018 SCERT 83 Training of newly appointed Hindi
Teachers 9/18/2018 SCERT
84 Regarding construction of new DIETs 9/18/2018 SCERT
183
85 Instructions for registration of students for NMMS Scheme || List of Students
9/18/2018 SCERT
86 Material for Science activities in Schools 9/18/2018 SCERT 87 Practical activities of students for
Science Subject 9/14/2018 SCERT
88 Datesheet for September SA2 and 9th, 10th examination
9/14/2018 SCERT
89 Public notice for deputation of Lecturers in DIETs | Click to apply
9/13/2018 SCERT
90 Letter regarding evaluation of class 3rd to 5th Students
9/12/2018 SCERT
91 Activities at school level for English and SST subject
9/12/2018 SCERT
92 Collection of Question papers for D.El.Ed. Session 2017-19
9/12/2018 SCERT
93 Cancellation of SA2 and 11th, 12th Exam datesheet of September 2018
9/6/2018 SCERT
94 Public notice regarding PSTET 9/5/2018 SCERT 95 Time schedule for September SA1 and
9th,10th class Examination 8/30/2018 SCERT
96 National Talent search examination 2018-19
8/28/2018 SCERT
97 National Means cum Merit Scholarship examination 2018-19
8/28/2018 SCERT
98 Improvement in vocabulary of students for Punjabi Subject
8/28/2018 DEO/SCERT
99 Model Question papers for SA1 of Class 8th
8/27/2018 SCERT
**100 Padho Punjab Padhao Punjab meeting through Edusat
8/20/2018 SCERT
**101 One day workshop on Punjabi subject under Padho Punjab Padhao Punjab Project
8/16/2018 SCERT
102 Books of private publishers in schools 8/16/2018 SCERT 103 Updation of data on SCERT Portal for
D.El.Ed Examination 2017-19 8/14/2018 SCERT
104 Endline testing of English Subject 8/9/2018 SCERT 105 Regarding ACRs of DMs and BMs of
Padho Punjab Padhao Punjab 8/9/2018 SCERT
106 Public notice regarding collection of Certificates of PSTET 2017
8/9/2018 SCERT
107 Udaan Project revised answer Key of 08-Aug.-2018
8/8/2018 SCERT
108 Correction in distribution of Punjabi Subject
8/8/2018 SCERT
184
109 Baseline Testing of Punjabi subject class 6th to 8th
8/7/2018 SCERT
110 Training of Psychology teachers 8/7/2018 SCERT 111 Instructions for DEOs regarding Teachers
State Award 2018 8/3/2018 SCERT
112 Public Notice regarding Certificate of PSTET 2014 and 2017
8/3/2018 SCERT
113 Teaching Practice by D.El.Ed. and B.Ed. Students
8/3/2018 SCERT
114 Regarding ACRs of Padho Punjab coordinators
8/3/2018 SCERT
115 Answer Key for First Test of Udaan July 2018
8/3/2018 SCERT
116 Instructions for school heads regarding Padho Punjab Project
8/1/2018 DEO/SCERT
117 Math and Science Fair in Schools 7/31/2018 SCERT 118 Regarding test under Udaan Project 7/31/2018 SCERT 119 Training of newly promoted teachers 7/27/2018 SCERT 120 Teaching practice by D.El.Ed. and B.Ed.
Students 7/27/2018 SCERT
121 Guidelines regarding Science Activity Fair in Schools under Padho Punjab
7/27/2018 SCERT
122 Schedule of visits by Sikhya Sudhar Teams :
7/27/2018 SCERT
123 Schedule of Regular visits of Sudhar Teams (July - 2018)
6/27/2018 SCERT
124 PSTSE 10th Class Final 500 Selected Students | PSTSE 10th Class Repeater Students
6/27/2018 SCERT
125 District-wise PSTSE Result 2018 6/20/2018 SCERT 126 Speaking Orders for Civil Writ Petition
No 2461 of 2012 Kulwinder Kaur and Others
6/20/2018 SCERT
127 Public notice regarding PSTET-1 2013 Result || Download Result
6/13/2018 SCERT
128 Corrections in SA2 Evaluations of 5th and 8th Class
6/9/2018 SCERT
129 Syllabus of English from class 6th to 10th 6/7/2018 SCERT 130 Registration of students for Annual and
Reappear exams of D.El.Ed Courses 5/28/2018 SCERT
131 Final Result of NMMS Examination 2017-18
5/22/2018 SCERT
132 SBS Nagar |Tarn Taran 5/22/2018 SCERT 133 Regarding verification of TET Certificates 5/18/2018 SCERT 134 Regarding Math Tables for Class 6th to
8th 5/12/2018 SCERT
185
135 CWP 845 of 2018 Narinder Singh and Others v/s State of Punjab
5/12/2018 SCERT
**136 Regarding Punjab State Language Act 2008
5/9/2018 SCERT
137 Regarding Padho Punjab Padhao Punjab Science
5/8/2018 SCERT
138 Schedule of School Visits May 2018 4/29/2018 SCERT 139 Baseline Test of Class 6th TO 10th
English and Social Science 4/29/2018 SCERT
140 Regarding Mathematics Baseline for Class 6th TO 10th
4/26/2018 SCERT
141 E-Admit cards for NTS Stage-II Exam 2018
4/24/2018 SCERT
142 Display of Learning outcomes in Schools 4/23/2018 SCERT 143 Orientation training of all Science and
Math teachers of Smart Schools 4/23/2018 SCERT
**144 Display of Learning Outcomes in Classrooms
4/17/2018 SCERT/DGSE
145 Meeting of school heads through Edusat 4/16/2018 SCERT **146 Implementation of Padho Punjab
Padhao Punjab Project in Schools 4/15/2018 SCERT
147 Syllabus distribution for Class 6th to 10th (Hindi)
4/11/2018 SCERT
148 Distribution of Syllabus for Class 6th TO 10th
4/9/2018 SCERT
149 Deputation of DMs and BMs 4/2/2018 SCERT 150 Declaration of result of 5th and 8th class
Evaluation 3/28/2018 SCERT
151 Regarding Padho Punjab Padhao Punjab Science
3/28/2018 SCERT
152 Syllabus distribution Class 6th to 10th 3/26/2018 SCERT 153 Syllabus distribution Class 6th TO 8th
(Math) 3/26/2018 SCERT
154 Public notice regarding revised result of NTSE 2017
3/24/2018 SCERT
155 Regarding data entry of 5th and 8th Class evaluation results
3/16/2018 SCERT
156 Instructions for NTSE 2017-18 Stage-2 Examination
3/16/2018 SCERT
157 NTSE 2017-18 Result :: Overall Result | Selected Students
SCERT
158 Regarding Padho Punjab Padhao Punjab (Science)
3/15/2018 SCERT
159 Format for Class 5th SA2 Evaluation 3/7/2018 SCERT 160 Public notice regarding revised result of
PSTET-2 2014 | Revised Result 3/5/2018 SCERT
186
161 Guidelines for preparation of results of SA2 Evaluation Class 5th
2/28/2018 SCERT
162 Guidelines for preparation of results of SA2 Evaluation Class 8th
2/28/2018 SCERT
163 Datesheet for 5th and 8th class Learning outcomes evaluation system
2/22/2018 SCERT
164 Answer keys of PSTSE 2017 :: Class 8th | Class 10th
2/17/2018 SCERT
165 Sample model paper for SA2 of Class 8th 2/13/2018 SCERT 166 Public Notice regarding revised result of
PSTET 2014 2/12/2018 SCERT
167 Regarding Udaan Project 2/12/2018 SCERT 168 Regarding Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab
Science 2/7/2018 SCERT
**169 English subject competitions under Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab
2/3/2018 SCERT
170 Job profile of SLAs 2/1/2018 SCERT 171 Regarding admission of students in
Govt. Schools 1/30/2018 SCERT
172 Periods of 9th and 10th classes by Science Lecturers
1/30/2018 SCERT
173 Model Test Paper Hindi for 8th Class 1/25/2018 SCERT 174 End line Test of Parho Punjab Paraho
Punjab - Math 1/24/2018 SCERT
175 End line Test of English and SST 1/22/2018 SCERT 176 Model Question papers Class 8th Maths 1/19/2018 SCERT 177 Model Question papers Class 8th English
and SS 1/19/2018 SCERT
178 Competitions under Parho Punjab Paraho Punjab
1/16/2018 SCERT
179 Postpone of date of exam. of Punjab State Talent Search Examination 2017-18
1/15/2018 SCERT
182 Sample Question Paper for 5th Class Exam.
1/6/2018 SCERT
**181 Parents Teacher meeting 7/28/2017 SCERT/DGSE **182 Appointments of 244 Sikhya Providers
reservation 5/15/2019 DEO
187
Appendix F. Circular #146 Punjabi