Negotiating Marginality: The Bangla-speakers of Assam

by Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

With the population close to 30 per cent as per the 2001 census and the provisional total of the 2011 census, the Bangla-speakers are the largest linguistic minority in Assam. A subs-tantial number of that, both Hindu and Muslim, is concentrated in southern Assam which is also popularly known by the epithet Barak Valley to represent the three districts of Cachar, Karimganj and Hailakandi. In addition to the Bangla-speakers, the Barak Valley is also home to other communities like the Manipuri, Marwari, Bihari, tea tribe, other tribes, and so forth.

The presence of Bangla-speakers in the region dates back to centuries. However, how the majority of them came to be lodged officially in Assam (and not Bengal) is pertinent here, and so is their marginalisation. By offering a brief look at the colonial history of the region, this essay traces the process (and axes) of marginalisation and negotiation strategies of this group of Bangla-speakers in post-colonial Assam.

Being in Colonial Assam

Following the conquest of Assam in 1826 and Cachar in 1832 by the British (East India Company), the two regions were incorporated into the Bengal Presidency. In 1874, the Assam districts along with the predominantly Bangla-speaking Sylhet, Cachar and Goalpara, and other hill districts were clubbed and constituted as a new Chief Commissioner’s province. The reason(s) behind the inclusion of Sylhet and Cachar in particular, was to meet the inadequate revenue potential of Assam. Claiming racial, linguistic and cultural difference with the Assamese, the Bangla-speakers of Sylhet and Cachar—the Surma Valley division—protested against the administrative move which in effect meant their formal separation from Bengal.

The situation for the Assamese was nothing less than paradoxical. The move was a moment of liberation from Bengal, but hardly from the Bengalis; the much needed and desired freedom and right to articulate and nurture the Assamese identity seemed sabotaged from the start. The Bangla-speakers of Sylhet and Cachar up until the 1920s tried and failed to reunite with Bengal which expressed unwillingness to address the reunion issue. As Khan Bahadur A.A. Choudhury (of Sylhet) observed in 1920,

[n]ot a single cry has come from Bengal in our aid. As far as I am aware, there has been no systematic movement from Bengal to take us in their midst. What does it indicate? Does it not indicate that we want to mix with people who have no sympathy for us?

This reminds me of an old Bengali proverb, that is, “I shed tears for my brother, but my brother sheds no tears for me”. [cited in M. Kar 1990:119]

By 1947 Assam was in a conundrum with the sentiments and views of the people sharply divided along linguistic and religious lines. The Sylhet referendum and partition of Assam appeared to be the only way out. Except for the three-and-a-half thanas of the Bangla-speaking, Muslim majority Sylhet’s Karimganj sub-division —those were retained by Assam—the district merged with Pakistan. Indeed, the geographical contours of southern Assam came to be redrawn with the Surma Valley now a truncated entity, and the region emerging as a landlocked zone and ‘Forgotten Valley’ in post-independence Assam. [Karmakar 2013:8] The fact that, as I have noted elsewhere (2013), the Sylhet referen-dum and the partition of Assam is an almost marginalised issue in partition historio-graphy is of course another story. Anyhow, Assam heaved a sigh a relief with the separation of the Bangla-speaking Sylhet district. The partnership, obviously of discomfort, that the Assamese and Bengalis shared had finally come to an end. But that was hardly so. By retaining a portion of Sylhet—Karimganj—and Cachar being part of Assam anyway, the situation in fact, took an unexpected turn.

Picking up the Threads

The movement of refugees to Assam was one of the unfolding consequences of Sylhet’s merger with Pakistan. Assam too, like West Bengal, was caught unawares when refugees/migrants (used interchangeably though they are legally distinct) made a beeline to enter and settle down in the province (State). A large number migrated during the 1947-48 period, but the rest arrived in the aftermath of the communal riots in East Pakistan in 1950. Unlike in the western sector where the movement of population following the partition took place quickly and within a short span of time, in the eastern sector the scenario was markedly different not only in terms of pace and time but also in matters of refugee relief and rehabilitation.

Particularly in Cachar (now known as the Barak Valley) in southern Assam, the refugee relief and rehabilitation operation was shoddy and dismal, to say the least. Upon arrival in Assam, the refugees, belonging to various castes and classes of government employees, small businessmen, contractors, small industrialists, agriculturists, and small and big landlords, settled down either in camps set up by the government or in shelters provided by extended families and friends. Scattered as they became in various places of Cachar in particular and Assam in general, the refugees struggled to eke out livings for themselves; while that was less difficult for some, for others it meant either long periods of temporary residence in refugee
camps and destitute homes or worse, homeless wandering from one place to another.

Similar to their counterparts in West Bengal, the refugees in Assam too found the situation—completely unanticipated as it was by the both Central and provincial State governments—‘not only less conducive but extremely hostile to their material and emotional needs. Grudgingly granted ... entry by the government ..., the refugees realised early that their struggle for survival had hardly ended; in fact it had just begun.’ [Bhattacharjee 2008:38] It is important to note that the Central relief and rehabilitation measures in the eastern sector were half-hearted and inadequate in any case. And the provincial State-generated obstacles only worsened things. The Relief and Rehabilitation Ministry, set up by the Government of India, encountered immense hurdles in effectively addressing the plight of the refugees and ensuring their planned settlement in Assam.

One of those was the consistent opposition of the Gopinath Bardoloi-led Congress Govern-ment in Assam to all such Central rehabilitation policies. Among the primary reasons cited for the opposition was the non-availability of adequate land to accommodate the ever-increasing number of refugees in the province. However, unable to contain the influx and also withstand the Centre’s directives, the Assam Government after a while relented, and began to work towards addressing the matter. To that effect it issued on May 4, 1948 a circular that stated in no uncertain terms the policy it would like to follow regarding immigration and land settlement in Assam. It reads as follows:

In view of the emergency created by the influx of refugees into the province from East Pakistan territories and in order to preserve peace, tranquillity and social equilibrium in towns and villages, the government reiterates its policy that settlement of land should be in no circumstances made with persons who are not indigenous to the province. The non-indigenous inhabitants of the province should include, for the purpose of land settlement during the present emergency, persons who are non-Assamese settlers in Assam though they already have lands and houses of their own and have made Assam their home to all intents and purposes. [cited in Choudhury 2002:64 (emphasis original)]

Assam’s policy of course was to do with the limited resources it had at its disposal but, more importantly, it was the product of the deep antagonism between the Assamese and Bengali-speakers. The circular in fact targeted not only the refugees but also those who were lawful citizens of the province. It is in this emerging context that the Central Refugee Board, Cachar submitted a memorandum to Shyama-prasad Mookerjee on June 23, 1950. On a note of disapproval regarding the unhelpful and discriminatory attitude of the Assam Government, it stated as follows:

The policy of the Government of Assam with regard to the refugees is influenced to a great extent by a section of the Assamese people whose attitude is one of opposition[s] to rehabili-tation of refugees on the score of their being Bengalis by race.... The schemes suggested by Shri Ajit Prasad Jain, Minister of Relief and Rehabilitation, Government of India ... are undoubtedly laudable, but a speedy implemen-tation of these schemes may not happen for certain circumstances peculiar to Assam. [Shyamaprasad Mookerjee Papers, Subject File No. 40/1950]

Living in Post-colonial Assam

Be that as it may, Cachar continued to grapple with the issue with a deep sense of discrimination and marginalisation. By the end of the decade, with the rehabilitation and resettlement process more or less in control, the Bangla-speakers of Cachar did get some relief. But that proved to be momentary. Aided by sections of the civil society and literary organisations, the Gopinath Bardoloi-led Congress provincial government, with renewed energy and resources, sought to consolidate the discourse of ‘Assam for the Assamese’. The ‘hegemonic’, as prominent scholar Hiren Gohain notes, state-backed linguistic nationalism was primarily articulated vis-à-vis the Bangla-speakers, multilingual Assam’s largest linguistic minority (despite the separation of Sylhet). To that effect, the provincial government launched a series of language policies which eventually led to the enactment of the Assam (Official) Language Act (ALA) in 1960. It stated that Assamese was to be then and thereafter the sole official language of Assam.

Predictably, Cachar was the nerve-centre of protests against the ALA. Coinciding with the Bangal Kheda (Oust Bengali) campaign, the ALA was surely the last straw. The Assamese State was discriminatory not only in matters of socio-economic development of Cachar but also attempted now to infringe upon the rights of the Bengali (and other) linguistic/cultural minority. The process of marginalisation had indeed come full circle with the attack on the cultural identity of the Bangla-speakers—branded as enemies, outsiders, and, so forth—of the region. It was against the ALA that the language movement was launched and it witnessed, among others, the killing of eleven protesters by the State Police at Silchar on May 19, 1961. Following protracted negotiations, the ALA was amended and Bangla was granted the status of the other official language—of Cachar district alone—in October 1961.

However, the issue of the Bengali linguistic identity of Cachar (including autonomy demands) and its preservation arrived centre-stage yet again in 1972 and 1986—Assam’s ‘dangerous decades’. Though language-based mobilisations in post-independence India have attracted considerable attention, yet the one discussed above is a nearly forgotten one (outside southern Assam). Its “production” of eleven Mother Tongue “martyrs”, for example, has gone unnoti-ced (even by the majority of the Bangla-speaking West Bengal) so has the larger issue of the rights, not to mention the existential anxieties, of the linguistic/cultural minorities. This, of course, has added to the critical issue of marginality.

Negotiating Marginality

The Bangla-speakers of southern Assam have time to time negotiated, rather attempted
to negotiate, their marginality vis-à-vis the Assamese, the larger Bengali community and, of course, the Indian state. The autonomy demands made since 1947 till recent times are examples of that as is the language movement and others. Both the Hindus and Muslims of the region however continue to struggle against the “immigrant”, “alien”, “outsider” and, so forth tags historically incorrectly, and hence, unlaw-fully attached to them by sections of the Assamese. And unsurprisingly, the Bangla-speaking Muslims of the Barak Valley are the worst victims. Clubbed more often than not with the infamous “illegal immigrants” of Assam some-times erroneously or sometimes deliberately, they exist on the margins of the margins.

So far as the larger Bangla-speaking commu-nity is concerned, the negotiation pre-empts multiple possibilities of inclusion, exclusion and equivalence. Admittedly, the negotiation process is anxiety-ridden. Beginning with coinages such as Tritiya Bhuban (Third World), Ishan Bangla (North-East Bengal), and Barak Banga (Barak Bengal) and formation of forums such as Barak Upatyaka Banga Sahitya O Sanskriti Sammelan (Barak Valley Bengali Literature and Culture Organisation) to the negation of the idea of probashi Bangali (Bengalis outside ancestral, territorial Bengali homeland) and Bahirbanga (Bengal outside territorial Bengal/Bengali diaspora), the Bangla-speakers of the Barak Valley relentlessly try to “examine” and “explain” their relationship with the larger Bangla-speaking community. The urgency is reflected in the everyday articulations as well as the literature published from the region. Inclusion of the Barak Valley in the construction of Bahirbanga in India by the New Delhi-based Bahirbanga (Indian Bengali diaspora outside territorial Bengal) Foundation Trust is resented by a section of its Bangla-speakers. Also linked to that is the negation of the probashi Bangali tag which more often than not is how the Bangla-speakers of the valley are identified outside that region.

Bijit Bhattacharya argues that the Barak Valley is not a part of Bahirbanga or a fragment of Bengal but Bengal itself, given its long history of engagement with the Bangla language and literature. In other words, he suggests that what is generally conceptualised as ‘Bengal and Bengali culture’ ought to be re-thought so that cultures are not necessarily viewed as tied to ‘fixed territorial regions’. In an eloquently argued editorial in the Hailakandi based journal, Sahitya, he writes:

The British in order to weaken the Bengali community broke up Bengal into numerous parts. The two main ones, Bangladesh and West Bengal, are the most important pilgrimages of Bengalis. But outside these, the small fragments of Bengal are also the swasthan [own territory], pithasthan [pilgrimage] of Bengalis—not Bahirbanga [Bengal outside territorial Bengal/Bengali diaspora].... We only refer to the numerous small Bengals [like the Barak Valley] as Bahirbanga when we assume that West Bengal is the only Bengal. We forget that prefixed by the word ‘west’ it too becomes part of the original Bengal. To designate the Bangla-speaking regions outside West Bengal as Bahirbanga is unjust and the handiwork of state and a section of the West Bengal based intelligentsia [2010: 11-12 (translation mine—N.B.)]

Clearly, Bhattacharya forwards an argument that intertwines the concepts of territory and culture which delineates the identity of the Barak Valley as one that is not a ‘Bengali diaspora but Bengali’ located in its ‘legitimate’ territory in Assam. Therefore, inhabitants of the region are not probashi Bangalis but sans any prefix or suffix, just Bangalis. Amitabha Deb Choudhury too makes a somewhat similar point as he debates whether the Barak Valley should be called Bahirbanga or ‘Bhangabanga [fragmented Bengal]’. He notes:

Bengalis outside the Barak Valley, particularly those in West Bengal, assume that the Bengalis of this region are Probashi Bangalis and the Valley is Bahirbanga. All inhabitants of the Barak Valley know that this is misleading.... The Barak Valley’s Bengalis are not like the ones who live in Madhya Pradesh, Hyderabad or New Delhi for these were never part of Bengal. But Sylhet and Cachar were .... So, when Bengalis of Bahirbanga and those from West Bengal ask, how do we know Bengalis having lived in Assam, or think that Bengalis of the Barak Valley are Probashi Bangalis or it is Bahirbanga, a simile comes to mind. It is like the fragmented/dismembered parts of a body with tremendous suspicion asking each other: bhai, tui aammiiy toh [brother, are you/you must be me]. [2006:29-30 (translation mine—N.B.) ]

While Bhattacharya and Deb Choudhury unanimously reject the Bahirbanga and probashi Bangali identification for the Barak Valley and its Bangla-speakers, yet the distinction between their argument lies in the fact that the former’s rejection is not restricted to the Barak Valley while the latter draws a distinction between Bangla-speakers of the valley and those in other parts of India though both are located outside West Bengal. However, to reiterate, the point is that a spatially fragmented culture ought not to be theorised as a marginalised sub-culture but culture itself. Put differently, the fragment is to be treated as nothing but the whole. So, following such arguments it may be argued that for a large section of the Bangla-speakers of the Barak Valley their identity ought to be either as Bengalis or, if insisted upon for the need of a prefix, then ‘Aashambashi Bangalis’ (but certainly not ‘Bangabhashi Ashamiyas’).

Conclusion

To conclude, I have argued that notwithstanding the difference between the nature of margina-lisation in the colonial and post-colonial periods, the Bangla-speakers of southern Assam for about a century-and-a-half have had little choice but to experience it. In fact, as a process where multiple players have been, and continue to be, involved, it is extraordinarily complex—engaging thus with the Assamese response to the Bengali experience is crucial. Crests and troughs have marked it as is evident from the discussion above. In sum, it has never been an uncontested and, therefore, an un-negotiated process. The following are the axes along which the process of marginalisation of the Bangla-speakers of the region took shape:

a) vis-à-vis the colonial state (both Central and provincial—Assam and Bengal)

• separation from Bengal and the altered geography

• Sylhet referendum and the partition; the re-altered (landlocked) geography

b) vis-à-vis the post-colonial state (both Central and provincial/State—Assam and West Bengal)

• discriminatory refugee relief and rehabili-tation policies and measures

• propagation of ‘hegemonic’ linguistic natio-nalism and the enactment of the ALA

• profiling of the Bangla-speakers and Bangal Kheda campaign

• economic deprivation of the region

• strategic silence on Sylhet’s referendum experience

• indifference of the larger Bengali community towards the legacy of the language movement in particular and the plight of the Bangla-speakers of southern Assam in general.

Now, as mentioned, the Bangla-speakers of the Barak Valley also evolved negotiation strategies to address their marginality. These, for instance, are: a) amendment of the ALA and the campaign for the preservation of minority identity and rights; b) autonomy demands; and finally; c) efforts to carve out an independent but complementary Bengali identity. And it is by perpetual negotiation with marginalisation that the Bangla-speakers of southern Assam continue to live in India of the contemporary times.

Reference

Bhattacharjee, N., 2008, ‘After Bengalis Parted Ways’, Biblio, 37-38, 13 (11 and 12).

Bhattacharjee, N., 2013, ‘Muslim Politics and the Partition of Assam’ (Op-ed), The Daily Star, Dhaka, March 20.

Bhattacharya, B., 2010, ‘Bhager Bangla Bhasha Maa’, Sahitya, 11-14, January 15, 43 (3).

Choudhury, S., 2002, ‘A “God-Sent” Opportunity’, Seminar (Theme: Porous Borders, Divided Self), 61-67, February.

Deb Choudhury, A., 2006, ‘Shahar Silcharer Bangasamaj: Ekti Ashahay Pratibedan’, Bahirbanga Patrika, 27-32, December, 1(1).

Kar, M., 1990. Muslims in Assam Politics. Delhi: Omsons Publications.

Karmakar, R., 2013. ‘The Forgotten Valley’, Hindustan Times, New Delhi, 8, May 28, 2013.

Shyamaprasad Mookerjee Papers, 1950, New Delhi: Nehru Memorial Museum and Library.

Nabanipa Bhattacharjee teaches Sociology at Sri Venkateswara College, University of Delhi.