A Reflection on Language, Identity, and Belonging

The Danger of Supremacy: A Reflection on Language, Identity, and Belonging in Today’s India

In recent times, especially in the aftermath of violent incidents like the terrorist attack in Pahalgam, I find myself questioning the narratives that dominate our public discourse—those rooted in identity, pride, and power. Whether it's in the name of religion or language, we seem increasingly caught in a struggle to assert who we are, and in doing so, perhaps forgetting what we ought to be.

Take the growing debates over language in India. Hindi, English, and various regional languages are no longer just means of communication—they’ve become battlegrounds of identity. People argue over which language should dominate national discourse, which one is more “authentic” or “Indian.” But in all this noise, we seem to forget a simple truth: language is just a tool. Its purpose is connection, not domination.

Language allows us to express emotions, ideas, and needs. Its power lies in its ability to bridge human experience. Yet we often treat it like a crown to be claimed, rather than a bridge to be walked together. In trying to "own" a language, we lose sight of its essence. Language should serve understanding, not fuel division.

Similarly, this obsession with asserting religious identity has grown louder, especially among Hindus. With political narratives promoting the idea that Hinduism was once marginalized and is now “restored” under the current regime, many feel a surge of pride. And while cultural pride isn’t inherently harmful, when it morphs into dominance, when it starts to say “we are the true heirs,” “we are supreme”—it edges dangerously close to exclusion.

Gayatri Spivak calls this process “othering”—the act of pushing people into the margins, defining them by their difference, and making them feel alien or less. In our current climate, we are guilty of doing exactly that—not just with communities, but with languages, cultures, and ideas.

Over the years, there has been a rising tide of assertive pride among Hindus, amplified by political narratives and media discourse. We’ve been told repeatedly that Hinduism was under threat, and that it is only under the current political leadership that it found its rightful, “mainstream” place. These messages aren’t subtle. They echo across news channels, campaign speeches, and even everyday conversations. 

At first glance, it may seem empowering—owning one’s identity, standing up for cultural pride. But when that pride becomes loud, dominant, and exclusive, it starts to sound less like self-respect and more like supremacy. And that’s where the danger begins.

When a particular identity is glorified to the point where others feel invisible or inferior, it creates a climate of fear and insecurity. And fear, when nurtured over time, can give birth to hate. It’s not unlike the dynamics within a family: imagine a child who is constantly told, “Look at your elder sibling—so disciplined, so ideal. Why can't you be like them?” That comparison doesn’t lead to admiration—it leads to resentment. The younger child may rebel, not because they’re inherently flawed, but because they feel unseen, unloved, and forever compared.

I feel our society is slowly slipping into this sibling-like resentment. In amplifying the idea that “Hindus are supreme” or “Hindus are the true sons of the soil,” we’re planting the seeds of alienation in the minds of other communities. We may not see it at first, but this narrative builds walls, not bridges. It creates a them-versus-us mentality, and it pushes people into corners—corners where extremism and anger fester.

The tragedy is that in trying to protect one community, we’re hurting the idea of community itself.

The way forward isn’t more shouting about identity or drawing sharper lines. It’s in quieting the noise, listening to each other’s fears, and learning to coexist with mutual respect. Because no identity thrives in isolation, and no pride is real if it comes at the cost of someone else’s peace.

So maybe it’s time we asked better questions. Not “Who owns this language?” or “Whose god is more native?” but “Are we listening?” and “Are we connecting?” Let’s not let pride become a reason for pain. Let’s strive to be human first—empathetic, inclusive, and aware of our words and beliefs' impact on the world around us.