Bengal is a name we’ve grown up with. And Calcutta—its nickname. Here, bhadralok dine on macher jhol with the same familiarity as a Yorkshire pud; their suits are bought from Harrod’s, and dhotis in Calcutta. In the Bengali imagination, the Empire lives on in Calcutta, 300 years after Job Charnock founded it in 1690. The first blow against Calcutta was struck in 2010 by renaming it Kolkata. Then, last week, West Bengal became Paschimbangla. Calcutta… oops, Kolkata… was aghast. It howled in protest. “Bengal gets a name, but loses its identity,” exclaimed one. The Internet went viral with indignation: “We didn’t vote you in to usher ‘change’ into any and everything possible”. The most telling comment was, “People are trying to change Kolkata into London... Well, London has not changed its name since ages.”
London is what lies at the heart of the matter. During British rule, the upper class Calcuttan’s spiritual home was London; something that lingers on, even today in the Calcutta Club. One language they spoke better than Bengali—was the Queen’s English; that too, with an Oxford accent. Those who couldn’t cross the ocean to become barristers and marry Englishwomen, adopted a desi Oxbridge accent. By changing West Bengal’s name to Paschimbanga, Mamata Banerjee wants to free Bengal from Calcutta. Otherwise, why not simply name the state Bengal? Is the word—paschim, meaning ‘West,’ retained as a tribute to the Bengali obsession with the West? Is Banerjee a closet Londoner?
Behind Mamata’s move is class war: she wants to prove Paschimbangla doesn’t care a hilsa what Calcutta thinks. Ironically, the Brits cleaved the Bengali identity in 1947, when East Bengal, or East Pakistan was born. Suddenly, there were two kinds of Bengalis—the Bengali and the Bangladeshi. The Bangladeshi is not considered the real enchilada, but a cartoon character that goes to London to work as waiter instead of becoming a barrister or, now, a banker or a Cambridge don.
Bengal is not the only case of nomenclatural trauma in India. Orissa became Odisha. Bombay became Mumbai. Bangalore, Bengaluru. Madras, Chennai. Trivandrum became Thiruvanathapuram. Mani Shankar Aiyer even got Delhi’s stately Connaught Place renamed Rajiv Chowk—his only Parliamentary achievement. India is perhaps the only nation that looks inward. Other post-colonial countries in Asia and Africa discarded their ancient, historical names and acquired new ones: Mesopotamia became Iraq; Persia, Iran; Abyssinia, Ethiopia; Ceylon, Sri Lanka and Siam, Thailand. These were nations looking to embrace a modern future, and carve out a national identity in a global context.
The naming of our states and cities may seem whimsical and comical, but hides a dangerous trend. Just because the British ruled India, is that all that defines the Indian identity? Then, we should disband the Railways (well, Mamata did try) and return to the bullock cart. India should ban English and invent a single patois of dialects. Is refuting the colonial experience the only way for India to rediscover itself? Moreover, by returning to regional identities, aren’t Bal Thakeray, Karunanidhi, Yeddyurappa and Mamata Banerjee undermining the very cornerstone of Indian nationalism?
Yet Hyderabad doesn’t revert to its original moniker, Golconda. Even in Modi’s Gujarat, Ahmedabad hasn’t reverted to its ancient name, Ashaval. Of course, there is no question of changing the country’s Western name ‘India’ to Bharat. Aren’t we are too secular for that?
ravi.shankar@newindianexpress.com