Gould, Hindi-Urdu Controversy
Gould, Hindi-Urdu Controversy
Gould, Hindi-Urdu Controversy
William Gould
University of Leeds
Abstract
In 1930s and 1940s Uttar Pradesh, the question of the relationship between Hindi and Urdu
in debates about a possible ‘national’ language has been widely assumed to interface with a
politics of communal antagonism between Hindus and Muslims. However, the politics of
figures on the ‘left’ of the Congress in this period suggest that the role of language in rela-
tion to religious antagonism was complex and sometimes paradoxical. We will explore the
ways in which characteristics of the two languages were associated with particular forms of
social and political behaviour, and how these associations between language and behaviour
came to characterise the rise of Hindi.
Keywords: Communalism, Hindi, Language policies, Urdu.
Resumen
Durante las décadas de 1930 y 1940 en Uttar Pradesh los debates sobre la primacía del hindi
o el urdu como la lengua oficial, ‘nacional’ se solapaban en gran parte con el enfrentamiento
29
entre hindúes y musulmanes. Atendiendo a la postura que adoptó la ‘izquierda’ del Partido
del Congreso, vemos que la relación entre lengua e identidad religiosa es bastante compleja
DOI: https://doi.org/10.25145/j.recaesin.2018.76.03
Revista Canaria de Estudios Ingleses, 76; April 2018, pp. 29-44; ISSN: e-2530-8335
On 6 January 1936, in reaction to Gandhi’s attempts to promote Hindustani
in both scripts —Persian and Devanagri— within the Hindi Sahitya Sammelan
(hereafter HSS),1 the newspaper Sudha described the Mahatma as a ‘blind devotee
of Muslims’. Because of Gandhi’s pious wishes it reported, poor Hindi would have
to put on an awkward half-rustic, half Muslim costume and would be ‘cremated’.
Hindi, it claimed, was ‘sansrkit’s daughter and the language of cow protecting,
non-violent image worshipers who considered India their only land.’ How could it
come to terms, Sudha argued, with the communalist language of cow-eating image
destroyers, who considered Arabia and Iran their motherland, and whose foreign
culture was violent, brutal and harking back to the days of Muslim empires?2
The image-laden reaction of Sudha provides a snapshot into one of the
most important political divisions of late colonial India —a debate that had
clearly emerged in the north of the country’s mainstream media by the mid
1930s, around the issue of script and language. What we might describe as the
‘Hindi world’ —the sphere of politics and culture that sought to promote the
idea of a single national vernacular— was split into two camps. On the one side a
‘Hindustani’ group, promoting a language which recognized the mixed scriptural
and vocabulary bases of Hindi and Urdu as conjoined languages. This included
the likes of Rajendra Prasad, Jawaharlal Nehru, Vinoba Bhave, Kaka Kalelkar,
Rajagopalachariah, and Jamnalal Bajaj. On the other side, promoting Hindi in the
Devanagri script, as a language effectively in competition with Urdu in Nastaliq
script, was, for example, P.D. Tandon, Babu Sampurnand, V.N. Tiwari, and
Balkrishna Sharma. The debate, which reached its peak and raged through the
HSS sessions of 1938-41 at Simla, Banaras, and Abohar, was conducted in and
through the Hindi press itself, which tended to take the side of Hindi rather than
30
1
The ‘Hindi Literature Convention’ —the principal organization promoting Hindi as a
national language in India.
2
Sudha 6 January 1936.
3
The literature on the Hindi-Urdu debate is extensive but can be explored in depth. See
for example, Rai 1984; King 1994; Rahman 1999; Faruqi 2001
with each language. It will not look in detail at the means by which we arrive at a
language that has distinctive overlapping provenance with a range of dialects and
then to a bifurcated language based on script, but it will explore the politics that
accompanied this division. In the first part of the article we will explore the ways
in which Hindi and Urdu were mapped onto particular readings of India’s political
history, which became more closely related to religious community in the late colonial
period. The second part of the article will examine the agencies and individuals who
made this possible, exploring in particular the work and writings of Sampurnand
and P.D. Tandon in the northern Indian state of Uttar Pradesh. The article will
argue that particular forms of political change in the late colonial period shaped the
polarization of Hindi and Urdu in debates about language. Specifically, the forms
of anti-colonial and populist protest brought a new urgency to the promotion of
a common vernacular at the right moment. Secondly, the forms of anti-colonial
protest that dominated parts of northern India —the politically most significant
regions of India— also generated forms of cultural nationalism that shaped Hindi
promotion as a ‘Hindu’ project.
Much of the debate around language, and specifically Hindi and Urdu,
made references to deeper historical contexts. In many cases, this was a deliberate
‘invention of tradition’, which served the aesthetic purposes of literature; and as
we will see below, key political publicists in the Hindi belt tied their nationalist
mobilisation to historical developments of a pure dialect. As with most examples
31
of nationalist hagiography, these histories obscured a far more complex reality, but
themselves drew on certain myths of linguistic origin. Most linguistic scholars relate
of governance as the British began to establish their dominion over north India.
But as colonial power became increasingly complex and formal from the
REVISTA CANARIA DE ESTUDIOS INGLESES, 76; 2018, PP. 29-44
1880s onwards, debates and decisions took place around ‘vernacular’ languages
in the project of governance. The crucial phase in these language debates
therefore corresponded to the critical transformations in colonial power and its
administration on the ground around the turn of the Century. From this stage
then, the association of language with its formal and informal ‘use’ in a multi-
lingual setting, became a common point of reference in all discussions of political
reform or constitutional advance. And it was from this position, that the politics of
religious community came to be grafted too, on the question of language. We can
see this most directly in the decisions of the Lt Governor of the NWP (later United
Provinces), Anthony Macdonnell at the turn of the century. In 1900, Macdonnell
took the decision to recognize the growing movement among publicists writing in
the devanagri script, to establish the principle of an equality of Hindi and Urdu
(Robinson 1974).
It was through the late 19th Century, and into the early 20th Century, that
Urdu came to be more clearly associated with an older ‘decadent’ Nawabi culture
(Metcalf 31), as the colonial state formalized rules of administration, attempted to
root out local fiefdoms in some cases, and sought to rationalize the bases of its district
administration. What David Lelyveld describes as ‘language repertoires’ —the use
of Hindi or Urdu, or another dialect in different places or for different functions,
became hardened in this phase of high imperialism (Lelyveld 107-117). The state,
not being an autonomous entity as far as social change was concerned, was also
responding to changes in communication technologies: Increases in the outputs
and subjects of publishing and journalism not only created the physical medium
for language propagation, but also became the vehicle for its discussion. Alongside
new reading publics, were new forms of educational institution —school and uni-
versity movements, epitomized by Syed Ahmed Khan’s Aligarh movement, but also
a range of revivalist institutions, such as the Gurukuls. These promoted new forms
of cultural communication, which cut across and included writing, literature and
music (Bhakle 2005). They also accompanied a growth in colonial anticipation of
administrative Indianisation, as it attempted to rationalize its power, and the need
to consider languages of administration and the courts.
Debates about which languages should be used in any particular region
or across India, for education, commerce, the courts or administration, became
particularly intense then just as the projects of regional and national publishing
and journalism developed on a large scale. The journal, newspaper and tract made
new forms of literature, or debates about language possible. And those with the
skills and finance to publicise literary pursuits, were able to open up such debates
about language. Print culture was therefore at the centre of these endeavours, and
moreover, the issue of promoting vernaculars took place against the ever present
power of English as a language of rule. Colonial hierarchies were developed through
the ‘high’ literacy associated with English, and it was in reaction to this that literati
across India promoted the vernaculars (Naregal 4-5). A central figure here was Syed
Ahmed Khan in the debates around and promotion of Urdu. Attempts to define a
33
clearer and dominant language in Nagri, were led by figures such as Harischandra
Bharatendu in his promotion of a nationwide standardised Hindi through pub-
35
mobilisations, as the 1920s-30s system of dyarchy pushed the foci of power more
into the provinces and districts. These leaders had cut their political teeth in the
society in the modern period. Francesca Orsini, for example, has argued with refer-
ence to the Hindi literary sphere, that instead of a twofold division of ‘public’ and
REVISTA CANARIA DE ESTUDIOS INGLESES, 76; 2018, PP. 29-44
‘private’, we might consider Indian society in terms of three layers —public, private
and ‘customary’. For Orsini, this ‘customary’ sphere related to cultural practices and
beliefs that unevenly overlapped between both private and public matters (Orsini
Intr.) Certainly, the development of literary spheres in India was very different to
the experience of most European states, not least because of the complication of
bilingualism among the social and literary elites.
The symbolic power of the English language, and its association with
governance in India, also recreated forms of colonial hierarchy in cultural affairs,
and in popular media. Perhaps most significantly, the sphere of vernacular literary
pursuits was more commonly associated by the politically powerful in India with
the politics of the disadvantaged.4 And just as appeals to the grassroots were often
4
This was a constant refrain of M.K. Gandhi in the 1910s and 1920s, who associated
the gulf between India’s urban educated and rural peasant communities in terms of knowledge of
vernaculars, and in particular, Hindi. See ‘Gandhi’s Speech on Non-Cooperation in Calcutta’, 13
December 1920, in Gandhi 1972: vol. 22/25, pp. 84-89.
made via a religious idiom, so too, did the use of Hindi, Urdu, Marathi, Bengali,
or other regional languages, presuppose a different level of political mobilisation,
which was often deliberately divorced from western notions of secular mobilisation.
Finally, the promotion of particular vernaculars involved projects of standardisation
and definition, which reinforced institution and organisation building as a means
of asserting particular kinds of collective identities. Insofar as language movements
were concerned with the future shape of state power, as well as literature, the arts
and ‘culture’, such institutions were tied to the whole process too, of how different
communities shaped their approach to an imagined free Indian state.
There was also a sense in which the promotion of Hindi was about the
development of a popular vernacular —an idiom used outside the formal constitu-
tional structures of politics. In this sense, as Orsini and A. Rajagopal also argue, the
politics of Hindi runs alongside this dualistic English/vernacular divide in India.
For Orsini, this was also about opening out forms of peasant mobilisation, via the
politics of figures such as Sahajanand Saraswati and the Kisan Sabha movement in
Eastern Uttar Pradesh and Bihar (Orsini ch 3; Rajagopal 1999). Equally, we can
talk about an urban popular idiom of politics in this region, via the work of Nandini
Gooptu and the mobilisation of lower castes in the towns and cities (Gooptu 2001).
However it is via the political idiom of Hindi too, that we see a specific form of
cultural exclusivism emerging from the 1930s, just as the idea of non-constitutional
mobilisation was widening out. This final part of the paper will look at that via
religious symbolism and the press and via the political writings and thinking of two
leaders in particular —P.D. Tandon, and Babu Sampurnanand,
In the early stages of journalism in the Indian vernaculars from the early
to mid 19th century, language use in the media clearly reflected the role of each
37
language in governance. In 1870 for example, there were 15 Urdu papers with a
circulation of 2050, and 8 Hindi ones with a circulation of 384. From the 1910s
political behaviour. In the case of Sampurnanad, as we will see, this was that the use
of Hindi allowed for the promotion of a Hindu organacist view of the nation. In the
REVISTA CANARIA DE ESTUDIOS INGLESES, 76; 2018, PP. 29-44
case of Tandon, this was about the ways in which a particular form of standardised
Hindi should be seen as a framework for full citizenship rights. In both cases, it
involved the representation of Urdu in terms of decadence and decline.
Babu Sampurnanand was from a kayastha family and would have been Urdu
speaking but his father insisted on teaching him Hindi. He was drawn to yoga and
toyed with the idea of joining the Radhaswami sect and in his early career worked
as a teacher and university lecturer. In April 1930, he was appointed ‘dictator’ of
the Banaras Congress, and in 1938 was appointed education minister in the United
Provinces Ministry. Sampurnanand was known in the early to mid 1930s as a Con-
gress socialist, although it was an interpretation of that philosophy that had distinct
north Indian characteristics (Gould ch 2). The implications of his socialism, was
that notions of social equality and cohesion were rooted, specifically, in Vedantic
Hindu religious traditions, and the notion of an oversoul of the universe (Virat
Purusha). This informed his writing on a range of larger political issues, including
the role of democracy in India. It also generated an important take on ‘secularism’,
as a phenomenon, Sampurnanand believed, known by ancient India long before
western Europe. Added to this were his organicist ideas about the nation in rela-
tion to Hindu culture and society: Indian society, he argued, had historically been
at its weakest when influenced by semitic religions like Islam and Christianity. He
suggested that Hindu culture was more ‘confident’ when not influenced by these
groups (Sampurnanand 1939).
The wider implications of Sampurnanand’s politics was seen when he was
in office as Education Minister in the UP, and he decided to implement the Wardha
scheme across the province. The scheme tended to present, according to Muslim
organisations, a one-sided view of history and focused very much on the promotion
of Hindi as a medium of education. This was reflected in Sampurnanand’s own views
about Urdu, which he found to be ‘unacceptable... and not suitable to be adopted
as a national language’ (Sampurnanand 1962: 88-92). At the end of August 1938
at the Kashi Nagri Pracharini Sabha, Sampurnand talked too about the qualitative
differences between Hindi and Urdu, and made the point that there should be a
retention of Sanskrit in the language, for the sake of speakers from other regions
like Maharashtra, Gujarat and Bengal.5
The policies of Sampurnanand towards Urdu led to a reaction among Mus-
lim organisations —some picking up, specifically on the Wardha scheme and the
promotion of Sanskrit, and others, such as the Jamiat-ul-Ulema— more generally
about the attitude of the Education Minister to Urdu. This formed the backdrop
to a more direct and focused Hindi campaign for Sampurnanand after Independ-
ence. As Chief Minister of UP between 1954 and 1960, he helped to implement
a range of state —level policies that cemented a Hindi— only policy, over-riding
instructions from the Central government to allow for the promotion of Urdu as a
minority language of instruction in educational institutions (Jaffrelot 161).
Sampurnanand’s promotion of a mono-linguistic culture in north India
was, in the main, focused on education and culture. But for another key Congress
39
leader and contemporary, Purushottam Das Tandon it entailed the rejection of
Indo-Persian cultural influences on the idea of the citizen. P.D. Tandon was best
5
Sampurnanand Papers (Varanasi Regional Archives), Sampurnanand to Gandhi, 5 Sep-
tember 1938.
6
‘Appreciation of the Political Situation’ (hereafter APS) 11 May 1945; 25 May 1945.
‘Confidential Report’, Fortnightly Report for the first half of April 1945, 19 April 1945 Frampton
Papers, Centre of South Asian Studies, Cambridge (hereafter SAS).
the citizen plays out. The relationship between active opposition to Pakistan and the
promotion of a majoritarian position on Hindi were directly related, and espoused
simultaneously. For example, Tandon’s chairmanship of the 31st HSS between 17
and 19 May 1943, entertained amongst its alumni representatives of the Mahabir
Dal and RSS, and contained speeches criticizing the Muslim League.7 In April
1945, as well as collecting funds for a Hindi Sahitya Sammelan Bhavan in Jaipur,
he supported Sampurnanand’s criticism, via the UP Provincial Sammelan, of the
pro-Urdu policy at All-India Radio.8 In the same month at the Kangri Gurukul in
the western UP district of Saharanpur Tandon was again vocal about his opposition
to Gandhian non-violence.9 The promotion of Hindi then, became a vehicle for the
development of an exclusively defined, majoritarian concept of citizenship in which
linguistic difference potentially positioned the nation’s denizens. At open session of
the HSS held in Bombay in December 1947, attended among others by V.D. Savarkar,
Tandon had suggested that there was still an attempt to satisfy Muslims in relation
to the national language, and that in the past the British had encouraged the idea
that their culture was different. At that same meeting, Seth Govind Das argued
that while Muslims were voicing their loyalty to the Indian Union, they were still
following the same old policy and that if they did not want to show loyalty, they
should go to Pakistan (“Samelan” 1948).
But it was shortly after independence that these totalizing representations
of Indian culture were developed most directly into exclusive and ethnicised ideas
of citizenship. At an open meeting of the HSS in the spring of 1948, Tandon sug-
gested that use of Hindi should be a means of testing Muslim loyalty to India. If
the Socialists supported Urdu-inflected Hindustani,10 Tandon argued, they would
be continuing to support the two-nation theory. The country’s salvation lay instead
40
China.” The partition of the country for Tandon was an illustration of the failure
of this monolithic nation, which naturally revolved around Hindu culture. In the
UP Assembly, Tandon argued that partition was due to the past sins of Hindus and
that if they did not open the doors of Hinduism to Muslims, they would experience
worse grief.
Tandon’s correspondence also shows support for organizations that sought
to directly question the citizenship rights of Muslims, including an All-India Refu-
7
APS 12 February; 21 May 1943.
8
APS 11 May 1945; 25 May 1945. ‘Confidential Report’, Fortnightly Report for the first
half of April 1945, 19 April 1945 Frampton Papers, SAS.
9
‘Confidential Report’, Fortnightly Report for the first half of April 1945, 19 April 1945
Frampton Papers, SAS.
10
The promotion of Hindustani related to a section of the Hindi Sahitya Sammelan in
the late colonial period, who favoured the idea of a national vernacular which embraced vocabulary
drawn from Urdu. This group opposed those in the Sammelan, such as Tandon and Sampurnanand
who argued for a ‘pure’ and more sanskritized Hindi. See Orsini 2009.
gee Association (AIRA), a Sindhi-dominated organisation headed by Choitram
P Gidwani. The Association had developed out of refugee agitations for property
compensation, and directly lobbied the Prime Minister’s Office. Tandon was seen
as a key supporter, with the Association seeking his help in rent disputes,11 and in
preventing the recovery of income tax demands issued on Sindhi refugees by the
Pakistani authorities.12 Indeed, his stance on refugees and Muslim properties was a
key dynamic of Tandon’s dispute with Nehru himself and the AIRA spared no ire
in denouncing Nehru as a man whose “culture” was Muslim and who showed too
much open “appeasement” of Pakistan.13
The role of these organisations had a material effect on the substantive
citizenship rights of Muslim communities. In 1950, the Sindhi Hindu Refugee
Panchayat, based in Dugapur Camp, Jaipur, wrote to Tandon for help in prevent-
ing Muslims from selling and mortgaging properties in Rajasthan. The Panchayat
provided lists of Muslim government servants who had retained properties but
migrated, or who had “deceived refugees”.14 In 1950, Tandon presided over the All-
India Refugee Conference in Delhi, at which the speech of Choithram P. Gidwani
complained of inadequacy of refugee loans, suggested that the evacuee property
law had failed to prevent a “drain of crores of rupees from India to Pakistan”,
and charged the Jamiat-ul-Ulema with agitation against the ordinance. Gidwani
summed up his list of accusations with the doubt that “elements returning to India
who have breathed the poisonous atmosphere of Pakistan will ever remain loyal to
our country.”15
Tandon helped rich and poor alike manoeuvre the everyday state in this
majoritarian world of citizens’ rights. Other correspondents to Tandon requested help
in acquiring evacuee property, such as one P.R. Kishanchand, also from Sindh, who
41
wanted help acquiring a shop in Kanpur in 1952;16 or the letter of complaint sent by
the District Refugee Corporation, Jhansi about a rationing officer (B.R. Sharma) and
11
Choitram P Gidwani All India Refugee Association to Tandon, 23 July 1952, Tandon
Papers, File 301 National Archives of India (hereafter NIA).
12
Statement of the Displaced Income-tax payers’ association, New Delhi. Draft Resolutions
of the All India refugee Conference, 29-30 July 1950, Tandon Papers, File 301 NAI.
13
All India Refugee Conference, 29-30 July 1950, General comments on the resolutions.
Tandon Papers, File 301 NAI.
14
From representatives of the Sindhi Hindu Refugee Panchayat, Jaipur, Durgapur Camp,
Gopaldas H. Ladhani, Congress Social Worker, to Tandon. 29 January 1950, Tandon Papers, File
301 NAI.
15
Speech of Dr. Choithram P Gidwani, Chairman Reception Committee, All India Refugee
Conference, Delhi, 29-30 July 1950, Tandon Papers, File 134 NAI.
16
P.R. Kishanchand to PDT, 19 December 1952, Tandon Papers, File 128 NAI.
17
District Refugee Cooperative Society to B.R. Sharma, TRO cum R and R Officer, 9
January 1950, Tandon Papers, File 119, NAI.
training or work centre.18 Supporting Hindu refugee organisations also meant that
Tandon became a forum of partisan complaints about ‘Muslim’ brutality. His papers
are littered with accounts of such alleged excesses.19 In extension of this patronage,
Tandon was targeted by members of the RSS calling to be reinstated in government
service following the ban on the organisation, including one missive from a Sindhi
migrant seeking help for his son who had been jailed as an RSS member.20 Another
letter compared the apparent “tolerance” shown to Pakistani Muslims to the treat-
ment of RSS men.21 Other correspondents to the leader sought support for complaints
against Muslim government servants in Delhi and Uttar Pradesh.22 Later, Tandon
was even a sympathetic voice for the likes of Baburao Patel, a columnist who wrote
a strongly anti-Muslim article in Film India in March 1952, against the Pakistani
documentary Josh-e-Jehad (The Passion of Religious Crusade).23
CONCLUSION
It is possible to write a history of Indian politics for the second and third
quarters of the 20th Century as a history of language. The question of which ver-
nacular should be promoted as the principal language of governance, the courts and
administration, and thereby the putative ‘national’ language, connected to a wide
range of other issues surrounding community, political authority, institution building
and state patronage. Most importantly, as the period progressed, new, more popular
forms of vernacular politics mobilized larger and more diverse constituencies, and
the issue of language appeared yet more urgent. The role of the rapidly expanding
press in the interwar years was central to this, both in terms of providing the medium
42
for language propagation, but also in the linguistic forms that the content of new
presses promoted: particular forms of symbolism, and the connection of linguistic
REVISTA CANARIA DE ESTUDIOS INGLESES, 76; 2018, PP. 29-44
forms to social questions imbued Hindi in particular in north India, with a specific
role in creating new spheres of public debate.
There was no necessary reason, given the very complex linguistic roots of
Hindi and Urdu, that this explosion in interest in language should have provoked
religious community —based controversy. Both languages, by their nature, were
described as homogenous or standardized in a way that distorted not only the wide
18
Lajpatnagar Panchayat Statement, nd, Tandon Papers, File 301 NAI.
19
For example, Statement of S S Bhasin, of district Campbellpur, 22 August 1947 (at pres-
ent taking shelter under the roof of Arya Samaj, Old Hospital Road, Jammu), in Tandon Papers, file
29, NAI. This letter described Hindu deaths near Wazirabad.
20
L.H. Ajwani, Prof of English, Sind College, Karachi to PDT, 21 November 1947, Tandon
Papers, file 29, NAI.
21
S. No 734, S.C. Sharma, Tundla, to PDT —24 July 1950, Tandon Papers, file 28, NAI.
22
‘The responsible citizens of Ghaziabad’ to Tandon, 21 September 1947, Tandon Papers,
File 29, NAI.
23
Baburao Patel to M.I. Quadri, 24 March 1952, in Tandon Papers, file 11, NAI.
variations in dialect and form across space, but also through time. Clearly, differ-
ent forms of both languages were used in different modes of social life. But these
differences might not have had an effect on relations between Hindus and Muslims
without the emergence of new forms of Hindi populism, promoted by a range of
figures in the Congress movement itself. The process of linguistic standardization
for Hindi went hand in hand with a quest to find the ‘pure’ elements of Indian
civilization —a set practices and ways of life that distinguished it from foreign rulers
and invaders. In this sense, the Hindi movement came to polarize around a debate
about exclusivism versus inclusivism— the very same parameters of discussion that
shaped ideas about the future Indian citizen.
43
REVISTA CANARIA DE ESTUDIOS INGLESES, 76; 2018, PP. 29-44
REFERENCES
“Maintain Ethical Standard in Elections: Speaker Tandon’s Plea”, National Herald, 20 April 1948.
“Sammelan Demands Hindi in Devanagri as Lingua Franca”, National Herald, 1 January 1948.
Bhakle, Janaki. Two Men and Music: Nationalism in the Making of an Indian Classical Tradition.
Oxford University Press, 2005.
Dalmia, Vasudha. The Nationalisation of Hindu Traditions: Bharatendu Hariscandra and Nineteenth
Century Banaras. Oxford University Press, 1997.
Faruqi, Shamsur Rahman. Early Urdu Literary Culture and History. Oxford University Press, 2001.
Gandhi, M.K. Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi, Indian Ministry of information, 1972.
Gooptu, Nandini The politics of the Urban Poor in Early Twentieth Century India. Cambridge Uni-
versity Press, 2001.
Gould, William. Hindu Nationalism and the Language of Politics in Late Colonial India. Cambridge
University Press, 2004.
Jones, Kenneth W. Arya Dharm: Hindu Consciousness in 19th Century Punjab. University of Cali-
fornia Press, 1976.
King, Christopher. One Language, Two Scripts: The Hindi Movement in 19th Century North India.
Oxford University Press, 1994.
Kumar, Krishna. ‘Hindu Revivalism and Education in North-Central India’, Social Scientist, vol.
18, No. 10 (Oct, 1990), pp. 4-26.
Lelyveld, David. “Zuban-e Urdu-e Mu’alla and the Idol of Linguistic Origins’, Annual of Urdu
Studies, Vol. 9 (1994), pp. 107-117.
McLane, John. Indian Nationalism and The Early Congress (Princeton: Princeton University Press,
1977).
44
Metcalf, Barbara. ‘Urdu in India in the 21st Century’, Social Scientist, 31, 5-6 (May-June 2003),
pp. 29-37.
REVISTA CANARIA DE ESTUDIOS INGLESES, 76; 2018, PP. 29-44
Naregal, Veena. Language Politics, Elites and the Public Sphere: Western India under Colonialism.
Anthem, 2001.
Orsini, Francesca. The Hindi Public Sphere (1920-1940): Language and Literature in the Age of Na-
tionalism. Oxford University Press, 2009.
Pandey, Gyanendra. The Ascendancy of the Congress in Uttar Pradesh: A Study in Imperfect Mobilisa-
tion. Oxford University Press, 1978.
Parekh, Rauf. “Urdu’s origin: it’s not a ‘camp language” Dawn, 17 December 2011. https://www.
dawn.com/news/681263. Accessed 5 February 2018.
Rahman, Tariq. “The Teaching of Urdu in British India”, Annual of Urdu Studies, 15, (1999).
Rai, Amrit. A House Divided: The origin and development of Hindi/Hindavi. Oxford University
Press, 1984.
Rajagopal. Arvind. Politics After Television: Hindu Nationalism and the Reshaping of the Public in
India. Cambridge University Press, 1999.
Robinson, Francis. Separatism Among Indian Muslims: The Politics of the United Provinces’s Muslims,
1860-1923. Cambridge University Press, 1974.
Sampurnanand, Samajavada. Banaras, 1939.
—— ‘Our National Language’, in Memories and Reflections. Bombay, 1962, pp. 88-92.