Subir Roy: Condemned to be a rump

Earlier this year, citizens of the Czech Republic woke up to find that their country had undergone a "metamorphosis", just as a character created by one of its most famous sons, Franz Kafka, had when he woke up one morning to find himself transformed into a giant cockroach. The government had decided to rename the country "Czechia".

Why? The word "Czech" did not go down well on products and clothing when firms and sports teams sought to use it for merchandising. In the long form, "Czech Republic" would continue just as "French Republic" stood for France. But, in the short form, Czechia did better than Czech, which was really an adjective, thought the PR agencies whose views seemed to have mattered the most. Expectedly, many citizens were unhappy that this change, to be approved by parliament of course, had been sprung on them without notice or public discussion. The people of West Bengal have just gone through a somewhat similar experience. They woke up one fine morning to find that the government and the political class had decided to change the name of the state to "Bangla" or "Banga" in Bengali (from Paschim Bangla) and "Bengal" in English (from West Bengal). Why? Unbelievably, "W" was, too, far down the alphabetical order so that representatives of the state, including the chief minister, had to wait for far, too, long at national conferences for their turn to have their say. By when, of course, everyone was dying to go for lunch.

The sole redeeming difference with the action of the Czech government is that a name change is not being forced upon the people of West Bengal by its rulers without discussion. In fact, the issue has been discussed off and on over 60 years and more! In the Constituent Assembly, between several readings of the Bill to enact the Constitution of India, "West Bengal" became "Bengal" and then back again to "West Bengal". Thereafter, during the Left Front rule, in 1999, there was a move to change the name of the state. Nothing came of it, but that did not prevent the Trinamool Congress to have a go just after it came to power in 2011. And now, in a never-say-die spirit, the change is being attempted again.

The literati and glitterati of the state have over the last few days held forth on the merits of the government proposal. The problems with the two Bengali names is aesthetic, which should matter because a state's name should have an emotional connect with its people. "Bangla", the same as the language that is spoken, seems, too, short. "Banga" (the other alternative), on the other hand, is bound to be mispronounced by those who do not know Bengali, the way Kolkata is routinely mangled by the uninitiated. The first "o" in the capital city's name should be pronounced as in "own", not as in "call". Saying it wrong makes you think of a call centre. The right way to pronounce "Banga" will be to utter the ending "a" as "o", again as in "own". Instead many will get to utter the name in a hideous way, which rhymes with danda.

Ideally, the land mass which has historically been labelled Bengal by the rest of the world should be called Bangladesh, which is the name borne by the country which accounts for the major part of the land and its people. It is the rump, which has been left to call itself West Bengal or Paschim Bangla (in Bengali) and has been unhappy ever since. As the full form of Bangla, which resonates, Bangladesh, is not available, then "Banga" would not sound, too, bad as "Bangabhoomi" but not, too, many are rooting for that.

The reason why many in West Bengal remain unhappy with the name (hence the periodic attempt to change it) lies deep-rooted in the identity crisis that has plagued the little sliver of land ever since it became a political entity. You are not the real thing but an adjunct that lies to one side. Paschim Bangla cannot capture a fraction of the fullness of the name Bangladesh.

A song in the Satyajit Ray film Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne has the itinerant performing duo begin with the words "Mora Bangladesher theke elam (We come from Bangladesh)".

Written in the late sixties before Bangladesh was born, the name is used generically as the land where Bangla is spoken. It came naturally to Ray to use the word in that way.

The fact is Bengal should never have been partitioned. The attempt by the British rulers to split the province in 1905 to decimate its revolutionary potential gave rise to arguably the most significant popular movement in its history till then, the Banga Bhanga Andolan, which eventually forced the British to reverse their decision in 1911. The movement, in whose forefront was the creative talent of the state, gave rise to an enormous nationalist corpus of poetry and song that remains a part of its heritage. Something that Bangladesh, since it was created, has legitimately called its own. Amar Sonar Bangla, the song that Bangladesh chose as its national anthem, was written by Tagore in 1905 when the province was divided!

What the British could not do, the communal flaw in the Indian psyche managed by default. West Bengal has, in the process, been left with the rump, physically and emotionally. A name change will not set things right.
subirkroy@gmail.com