What’s common between Belagavi and Kasaragod? Nothing, except that both are border districts — one in Karnataka but claimed by Maharashtra and the other, part of Kerala but sought by Karnataka. Their position on the political map of India is by virtue of the reorganisation of states carried out on linguistic basis in 1956, and has remained disputed ever since. The disputes involving them have a long history, marked by agitations, violence and bitter inter-state feuding.
That’s history. Cut to 2015, the disputes have survived the test of time, as it happens with most border conflicts, but there is a contrast. In Belagavi (Belgaum till recently), the demand for a merger with Maharashtra is still strong, kept alive through occasional statements by political leaders and activities organised by pro-Marathi outfits. On the other hand, about 500 km away in Kasaragod, the demand for a union with Karnataka has all but died down — no one is talking about it, and the district’s Kannada-speaking population has remained silent for so long that the issue has faded out of public memory. As one enters the city of Belagavi, what strikes as strange is the singular absence of signs of use of Kannada language. Most shops have their names, and publicise their wares, in Marathi, besides English. Kannada is largely restricted to boards put up by government institutions and offices. Expected in a city where the Marathi-speaking population is in majority — the civic body is headed by an outfit that represents the Marathi community. Though you can get by well if you know Kannada, Marathi is the language of choice. But the scene changes as you move out of the city — there are predominantly Kannada-speaking areas peppered with Marathi-dominated localities. The status of Belagavi is hotly contested by Maharashtra and Karnataka.
A committee and later, a commission were set up to resolve the issue but both failed, and the matter is now in the Supreme Court. In 2005, the Belgaum City Corporation passed a resolution to merge not just Marathi-majority areas of Belagavi but also those in Karnataka’s Uttara Kannada and Bidar districts with Maharashtra. The Karnataka government responded promptly by dissolving the civic body headed by Maharashtra Ekikaran Samiti (MES), a party, which was created even before redrawing of state boundaries and started with the sole intention of keeping Marathi-majority areas outside Bombay Presidency in the proposed state of Maharashtra. For MES, the fight continues but its influence has waned over the years. The party, which once had as many as five representatives in the Karnataka Assembly, has just two now. The perception in Belagavi is that the border dispute is more of a political tool now. The Marathi and Kannada communities have found peace with each other. The Maharashtra government recently appointed a minister for dealing with the dispute, a sign of its renewed focus on the issue.
Enter Kasaragod, again one will be left searching for signs of use of Kannada in a region that is said to have been erroneously made part of Kerala and was once dominated by those who spoke either Tulu or Kannada. Its inclusion in Kerala triggered protests and campaigns that went on till the 90s. But now, any talk of a merger with Karnataka evokes not more than a dismissive sigh.
Kasaragod was part of the original Tulu belt that included today’s Dakshina Kannada and Udupi districts of Karnataka. It had the native Malayalam-speaking population for whom Kannada was the adopted mother tongue. After the reorganisation of states, when Kasaragod was carved out of Madras Presidency and appended, along with the rest of Malabar, to Travancore to form the state of Kerala, Malayalam-medium schools made their appearance and their numbers increased over the years. Those, who spoke Malayalam, started sending their children to Malayalam schools. What was once a trickle to Malayalam schools became a flood later as people started realising the importance of Malayalam education in a state where it’s the official language. Add to this the influx of people from south and central Kerala. When Kasaragod was made a separate district in 1984, several predominantly Malayalam-speaking areas were included in it, thus largely, though not completely, balancing out the language equation.
The demography has undergone a slow but definite change since then. The rich Tulunadu culture is still evident in celebrations, but the population that can both speak and read Kannada has been reduced to a minority. No wonder then that the demand for a merger with Karnataka is almost non-existent.
The Mahajan Commission, set up way back in 1966 to go into the border disputes, had in its report said Kasaragod should be merged with Karnataka. It also recommended that many areas of Belagavi district, including the city of Belagavi, should stay with Karnataka. A win-win situation for Karnataka. The report was trashed by Maharashtra and Kerala. Five decades down the line, only one of the two disputes is still alive, the one where Karnataka has failed to cash in on its advantageous position.
