Why would 'Mysore Pak' upset anyone? That 'Pak' is actually from Sanskrit

Languages can either foster peace and understanding or serve as tools for conflict and division. In India, they are increasingly being weaponised. For instance, amid tensions with Pakistan, some shopkeepers in Jaipur renamed sweets like Mysore Pak and Moti Pak to Mysore Shree and Moti Shree, erroneously assuming the word ‘pak’ (meaning ‘sacred’ in Persian) to be of foreign origin. Ironically, in the case of these sweets, ‘pak’ is rooted in the Sanskrit term ‘pakva’ (meaning ‘cooked’), with cognates in several Indian languages, including Kannada.On the other end of the country, Hyderabad’s Karachi Bakery faced vandalism for using the name of a Pakistani city, despite being founded by a Sindhi Hindu refugee who migrated from Karachi in 1947. Such acts of linguistic intolerance are not isolated but part of a larger pattern where language is being used to fuel differences.Words of Arabic origin, such as jihad (spiritual struggle), halala (permissible), talaq (divorce), sharia (Islamic law), and hijab (veil), have been used by political groups to marginalise and discriminate against communities. Conversely, innocuous Sanskrit-derived terms like bhakta (devotee), gobar (cow dung), gaumutra (cow urine), and mandir (temple) are stigmatised by opposing groups to demean and trivialise cultural practices and identities. Jai Shree Ram (Victory to Lord Rama) and Allahu Akbar (God is Great), once expressions of devotion, have been twisted into polarizing war cries. Forget humans, even AI chatbots like X’s Grok have been manipulated to abuse and dehumanize people, communities and organisations using the ‘unhinged mode’ feature.More worrying than the language conflicts on social media is what is playing out on the streets. Skirmishes have been reported in several cities with migrant workers becoming soft targets for these ‘language vigilantes’.In a nation where languages are deeply intertwined with cultural identity and pride, these conflicts over language use, words and signage strike at the heart of personal and communal belonging.But why is India’s linguistic diversity — it has over 424 distinct languages — under strain? Among the reasons are the continued distrust of multilingualism by central and state governments, inconsistent implementation of the three-language policy, and the push for a ‘one-country, one-language’ ideology based on a European model of a nation state.Moreover, state governments are implicitly supporting this ideology of linguistic homogenization. A 2024 Kerala government order mandated exclusive use of Malayalam in public advertisements and notices, prohibiting multilingual signs. Governments in UP, MP, Uttarakhand, and Rajasthan have been actively replacing names of villages and cities perceived as Islamic with those reflecting Hindu heritage. In MP, for instance, Mohammadpur Machanai village was changed to Mohanpur, and Hajipur was renamed Hirapur. Critics argue that such renaming erases centuries of coexistence and shared history, while proponents claim it restores a pre-colonial identity.So widespread is linguistic prejudice in India that regional variations of a widely spoken language like Hindi are stigmatised. Hindi speakers from eastern states like Bihar and Jharkhand often face mockery for their distinct accents, word choices, and oral expressions. Their mother tongues, such as Bhojpuri, Magahi, and Angika, are labeled as crude or vulgar. By linking the perceived vulgarity of Bhojpuri films and songs to the language itself, the entire Bhojpuri-speaking community is viewed through a prejudiced lens. Similarly, though Telangana Telugu and coastal Telugu share a common script and a unified cultural history, Telangana Telugu has been treated historically as inferior. In films, Telangana Telugu speakers were frequently portrayed as comical or foolish. These linguistic, cultural, and social differences contributed to the 2014 separation of Telangana and Andhra Pradesh.In fact, there is a competitive race among linguistic groups to claim the antiquity of their languages. A recent flashpoint was actor Kamal Haasan’s remark that Kannada was born out of Tamil which sparked a sharp backlash. The Indian government’s ‘classical’ tag for certain ‘dominant languages’ — the 2024-25 list included Sanskrit, Tamil, Telugu, Kannada, Malayalam, Odia, Marathi, Pali, Prakrit, Assamese, and Bengali — has also become a coveted badge of prestige. These languages already receive significant budgetary support from both Union and state govts. Such official labels often end up intensifying conflicts and further marginalising resource-scarce minority languages like Tulu, Bhili, Gondi, Santali, Dogri, Angami, Lotha, Mizo, Garo, Khasi, Badaga, Irula etc.Far from being a unifying force, languages have become tools of polarisation in electoral politics. If India is to uphold its democratic ideals, the embrace of multilingualism must be more than symbolic. It must be actively nurtured, through policy, education, and public discourse.Languages are not just a medium of communication; they are the essence of identity, culture, and coexistence.Avtans teaches Indic languages and linguistics at Leiden University in the NetherlandsLead image generated with AI