Mainstream WeeklyWhen Tamil Nadu Chief Minister M.K. Stalin warned that the expansion of Hindi was threatening smaller Indian languages, he listed several languages struggling for survival. Buried somewhere near the end of that long list was Khortha, my native language. It was one of those rare moments when I encountered Khortha in a national political debate. Despite being spoken by millions of people across Jharkhand, the language rarely features in discussions on language policy, linguistic rights, or cultural preservation. The appearance of Khortha in that debate was a reminder of how India’s language controversies often overlook smaller regional languages. Public discussions frequently revolve around Hindi versus non-Hindi languages, but Khortha’s experience suggests that the crisis facing many regional languages is shaped by a more complex set of forces.
Khortha is spoken across northern Jharkhand, including much of the North Chotanagpur region, and is considered the state’s largest regional language, with roughly 8 million speakers according to Census data. Linguist Anvita Abbi describes Jharkhand as a uniquely complex linguistic contact zone, and Khortha exists within this rich multilingual environment alongside numerous tribal and Sadani languages.
One of the first difficulties I encountered while researching Khortha was the scarcity of detailed and reliable scholarship. Compared to major Indian languages, the language remains under-documented despite its large speaker base. I relied on a combination of academic studies, local publications from Ranchi, and works by scholars such as Netra Paudyal, Atul Aman, and G.N. Devy. The gap between local knowledge and mainstream academic attention reflects the marginal position of many regional languages in India.
Most studies describe Khortha as a lingua franca that facilitates communication between different linguistic communities in Jharkhand. It functions as an important bridge between tribal groups and the Sadan community. Bisheshwar Prasad Keshari, scholar and participant in the Jharkhand movement, distinguished the Sadan from the diku. While the term diku has historically referred to outsiders and exploiters, particularly those perceived as benefiting economically from the region without being rooted in it, the Sadan are understood as long-settled non-tribal inhabitants who have developed their own cultural and linguistic identity within Jharkhand. The language spoken by the Sadan community is often grouped under the broader category of Sadani languages, including Khortha, Nagpuri, Kurmali, and Panchparganiya. Scholars continue to debate the historical origins of Khortha and its relationship with Magahi. While some classify it as a variant of Magahi, others argue that it belongs more appropriately within the Sadani language group. Whatever its precise classification, the debate highlights Khortha’s distinct identity and long historical presence in the region.
Although Khortha continues to have millions of speakers, concerns about language shift are becoming increasingly visible, particularly among younger generations. As someone from that generation, I have experienced this distance firsthand. Many young people understand Khortha but hesitate to speak it in public spaces. In urban and semi-urban Jharkhand, Hindi increasingly serves as the preferred language for education, aspirations, and everyday interaction. The state’s demographic landscape has also contributed to this shift. Jharkhand’s towns and industrial centres attract people from neighbouring states, bringing with them languages such as Bhojpuri, Bengali, Maithili, and others. Multilingualism itself is not a threat. The concern arises when some languages enjoy significantly greater institutional support, educational presence, and social prestige than others.
This tension became visible during the protests organised by the Jharkhand Bhasha Bachao Sangharsh Samiti in 2021 and 2022 against the inclusion of Bhojpuri, Magahi, and Angika among the state’s regional languages. For many activists, the issue was not simply recognition but the fear that numerically stronger languages would overshadow Jharkhand’s indigenous and regional linguistic traditions. The controversy revealed that language politics in Jharkhand cannot be reduced to a simple Hindi-versus-regional-language framework. It is equally a debate about representation, identity, and access to institutional support. Researchers such as Atul Aman have described Khortha as facing a serious crisis. Migration for education and employment often separates younger generations from their linguistic environment. At the same time, many speakers associate upward mobility with Hindi and English.
Swati Priya’s fieldwork highlights another aspect of this transformation. Many children from Khortha-speaking families increasingly substitute Khortha vocabulary with Hindi and English words. Code-switching and code-mixing are now common features of everyday speech. While such linguistic blending is natural in multilingual societies, it also raises questions about the long-term transmission of the language. Khortha faces another challenge: the absence of a widely accepted independent script. Like many languages of Jharkhand, it has historically relied heavily on oral transmission. While this rich oral tradition has preserved stories, songs, and cultural memory, it has also complicated efforts to standardise educational materials and expand formal instruction.
This is not unique to Khortha; it reflects a broader pattern across India where dominant languages are often linked to economic opportunity. Across India, numerous regional and indigenous languages are in a precarious position, spoken by millions in some cases, yet increasingly absent from classrooms, administrative spaces, publishing industries, and mainstream media. The issue, therefore, extends beyond the survival of a single language. It concerns the future of India’s linguistic pluralism itself. If linguistic diversity is to remain more than a symbolic celebration, it must create conditions in which smaller languages can continue to function as living languages of education, creativity, and everyday life.
(Author: Mrinalini Raj is a researcher and a translator. She has submitted her PhD thesis at IIT Roorkee and is an Associate Fellow at the University of Groningen. Her research interests are Indigenous Studies and Gender Studies. mrinalini_r[at]hs.iitr.ac.in)