The moral imperative behind 1956 was not simply diversity; it was respect for the principle of non-coercion: no language would be imposed upon any state against their will. Diversity and non-coercion are different things. The principle of non-coercion suggests that people should be able to exercise their linguistic choices in, logistical constraints apart, a non-discriminatory way. Whatever diversity that emerges as a result is to be cherished, but choice should not be diminished in the name of diversity. This is a principle that states would do well to remember as the preferences of their own populations get more diverse. The creation of a Kannada state to give expression to Kannada aspirations is one thing, to turn it into a project where other linguistic groups — Tamil or English or Konkani — are disadvantaged or deprived of their choices quite another.

Another casualty of the 1956 settlement was a remarkable idea of Nehru’s: he thought of genuinely multi-lingual areas like Hyderabad, Bombay and Madras, as something like cosmopolitan zones, a standing riposte to the idea that language, territory and ethnicity should coincide. These would be the zones where languages and identity would seamlessly meld into each other, creating all sorts of new languages and possibilities. The great virtue of modern India is that in some ways what Nehru thought was true of places like Bombay is increasingly coming to define more of India. The lines of different languages run through each one of us rather than between us. A time might come where the alignment of language, territory and identity will seem as ineffectual as attempts by snooty custodians of language to preserve its purity. But, as the rest of India becomes more diverse, it is precisely these cosmopolitan zones that have become hostage to the politics of identity. Perhaps there is an argument to be made, both in linguistic and economic terms, for carving out these dense concentrations of populations as administrative zones in their own right.

... contd.