Personally, I’ve never really given much thought to this question, ever. I heard inklings of it in the past. Many of my fellow Sylhetis quite proudly state: “Sylheti is a language in its own right!”. Some, mainly western commentators, support this view in part and state: “The Sylheti dialect is so different to ‘standard’ Bengali, it’s almost its own language.” So when we were posed this question by our friends at Bindus_ it all came flooding back to me and I became ever so slightly curious. Given the recent ‘awakening’ to racial inequalities in the West and unconscious (and sometimes very conscious) racial bias, and my own personal exploration of identity - I thought it timely to look into answering this question and the massive ‘can of worms’ that is: “Sylheti: language, dialect, race, or all of the above?”
I’m no historian nor an expert in anthropology. I’m not a linguist and neither am I a lawyer. But, given that there are c. 10 million people in the world who speak Sylheti (i.e. c. making up 4% of the total 230m Bengali speakers worldwide), and given that the largest proportion of Bengalis in our British Bengali diaspora speak Sylheti - I thought it important as Editor of The British Bengalis to take on this project personally and attempt to uncover some truths.
Also, as my day to day job requires me to delve into the depths of UK tax law (rock n’ roll, I know) and interpret it to ensure Technology systems are compliant. I thought gathering some facts and presenting them for your reading pleasure shouldn’t be too ‘out of the ordinary’ (famous last words).
Here’s my attempt at shedding some light on this very complex, but extremely interesting question. I’ve included all sources of insights throughout and at the bottom of this post with links where possible so that you are able to properly fact check this article.
There is no legal definition for who Sylhetis are (more on the legal stuff, later) in the UK, Bangladesh, nor India. So we must look at a dictionary definition for Sylheti, which is available in Lexico, which states that Sylhetis are: “a native or inhabitant of the region around Sylhet, a city in north-eastern Bangladesh…” But, is this correct? We know that the definition is probably more complex than that as we know that the following people speak Sylheti:
People who reside in the greater Sylhet division of Bangladesh.
People who reside in the districts of Karimganj (centered around Karimganj city), and Cachar (centred around Silchar), Assam, India.
People who have migrated to elsewhere in the world but originate from the above places.
People who speak Sylheti as either their first language or ‘mother tongue’.
We can already see something quite striking here. Now i’ve always known that people that speak ‘standard Bengali’ are separated by international borders and are mainly found in: the central regions (i.e. Dhaka and surrounding areas) and north western regions of Bangladesh (i.e. Rajshahi); and West Bengal, India (Kolkata and surrounding regions). What’s striking is the split of Sylheti people across international borders and several state borders. So when you search for people who speak Sylheti, you’ll have to look in several locations.
So, why this split? Well, it’s quite complicated, but - it turns out that at the heart of the matter, there is something that flows innocently and seamlessly right the way through both our Britishness and Bengaliness: Tea! Before we get to what Saa’s got to do with it, let’s get a bit more technical with definitions.
According to the Oxford dictionary, language is defined as:
“the system of communication in speech and writing that is used by people of a particular country or area…”
Dialect is defined as:
“the form of a language that is spoken in one area with grammar, words and pronunciation that may be different from other forms of the same language…”
Spot the difference? Me neither. So, ‘crystal clear’! Perhaps a British example will help, such as: Cockney, and Glaswegian. They are both considered dialects of English and not a language in their own right; and arguably it will be difficult for a Glaswegian to fully understand a ‘proper’ cockney and vice versa. It is important to ensure that we don’t confuse dialect with accent, the latter being just a different way of pronouncing the same word(s). I think the blog post by The Translation People sheds a bit more light on this. The post considers this very question and according to the post, it’s quite clear that it’s really all about perception and political factors over anything technical. I think this is an important point to take on board.
Taking the question and applying it to the UK: the UK comprises of around 66.5m people and, as you are probably already aware, is a union of four distinct countries:
England (56m people);
Scotland (5.5m people);
Wales (3m people); and
Northern Ireland (2m people).
The Welsh population amounts to only c. 4.5% (sound familiar?) of the total UK population; but despite this, Welsh, as well as English, has official language status in the UK. In addition, there are minority languages recognised as languages (i.e. not just accents) such as: Scottish Gaelic, and Irish Gaelic. It appears that for the UK, Glaswegian and Cockney are considered dialects whereby English, Welsh, and some minority languages have language status.
Taking the above onboard, how does this reflect on Sylheti? Is it a language or dialect?
According to the Linguistic Survey of India (‘the Survey’), which was published in the midst of the British Raj in 1903: Bengali, Sylheti, Assamese and other languages, referred to as Bengali-Assamese languages, all stem from an old, now defunct, language called: Magadhi. This was the language spoken by Gautama Buddha (that’s right, the founder of Buddhism,a.k.a the Buddha), and of course emperor Asoka who presided over the largest political entity in India for its time: the Mauryan Empire. Ashoka was so motivated in his quest to spread the message of the Buddha that Buddhism became the dominant religion of India, during his reign (c.230 BCE).
Insight: In case you were interested: Magadhi was the language of the ancient kingdom of Magadha, which was located around present day Bihar (right next door to West Bengal if you were wondering); Bengal back then was the centre for Buddhist learning.
According to A History of Bangladesh, as Ashoka spread the message of the Buddha, so did the use of Magadhi spread - the Bengal region of course was no exception and, in-fact, became a centre for Buddhist learning. In the Bengal region, by 500 CE, a regional form of Magadhi was well established and by 1,000 CE, we have the emergence of the first Bengali script.
Sticking on the use of Bengali. The Survey draws on an interesting finding: the phrase Bengali isn’t even ‘Bengali’, it’s a product of colonialism and, according to the Survey, ‘Bengali’ originates from South Indian temple references to ‘Vangalam’, which stems from Vanga (or Banga or even Bongo - as most Bengalis are unable to pronounce the letter ‘v’ and the sound for ‘a’ usually transforms into an ‘o’ sound) - the historic term associated with modern day ‘Bengal’ (Bangladesh, West Bengal, and Northeast Assam) and most widely found in ancient Sanskrit literature. So surprise surprise, it is the British portion of our identity that we can credit for providing us with the ‘modern’ reference to our ‘origin’ identity: Bengali.
Anyway, it’s probably sensible to assume that Sylheti evolved from the 500 CE Buddhist Magadhi language in Bengal and there are likely to have been many variations of it; regional dialects if you will. In-terms of Sylheti, The Survey is our first reference to Sylheti being categorised as a regional dialect and, therefore, a variant of ‘standard Bengali’ and not a language in its own right. The Survey doesn’t elaborate further on this point in relation to the technicalities of this classification. Perhaps it was politically prudent to group all Bengalis as one?
What does the Constitution of Bangladesh say?
The constitution of the People’s Republic of Bangladesh recognises, in Part 1, only one language as the state language: Bangla. This implies that all other forms are dialects.
What does the Constitution of India say?
Now India is a massive country; well really it’s more like a continent with over 28 states. The constitution of India recognises 22 official languages in the Eighth Schedule, one of them being: Bengali.
So, on the language front, both Bangladesh and India do not consider Sylheti to be a language in its own right.
However, in more recent examinations, such as A History of Bangladesh, there are a growing number of counter arguments to this view. In A History of Bangladesh, it states that:
“there are a few ‘dialects’ that are incomprehensible to anyone outside of the region. One being Sylheti which is spoken by c.10m people globally….”
In the 1980s there were protests in London by British Bengali residents of the borough of Tower Hamlets against the use of 'standard Bengali' in educational courses where the majority of participants were people who speak Sylheti. If one thing is for certain, where language is concerned, Bengalis of any creed will will fight for its use. Proof in point is the adoption by UNESCO of 21 February as the International Mother Language Day to promote linguistic diversity and commemorate the four Bengali students who lost their lives on 21 February 1952, campaigning to use their mother tongue.
We need to refocus now, this time onto the period of the British Raj to truly understand the role tea has played in shaping the lives of the people who speak Sylheti.
Apart from being a delicious hot beverage served with hot scones and clotted cream; or with a couple of pieces of mishti (Bengali, or should I say Sylheti, for sweets) and thickened and sweetened with condensed milk - what’s tea got to do with Sylhetis and their complex identity, as well as their lectures on origin status? Firstly, let’s think about what springs to mind when you think about the political act of Indian ‘partition’. As well as chaos, bloodshed, and uprooting - probably the partition of Punjab and Bengal between the new states of India and Pakistan? Same here. But, you see it’s a bit more intricate than that. Yes it’s true a larger Bengal was divided into two international borders and multiple separate states. What is rarely reported, however, is the fact that Sylhet was one of the few districts that went through a number of boundary changes over a relatively short period of time. Before we get to the mind spinning changes, we need to lay down some context of the world order at the time.
In the mid 1600s, tea was a luxury item for Europeans, including the British. By the 1700s, tea became a cultural staple in Britain and across Europe and tax receipts from the taxation of tea became a massive revenue earner for the British coffers. As the popularity and demand for tea grew exponentially and the reliance on tea taxes to fund governments, thus started the race for the globalisation of the world tea trade and colonialism. At the heart of it all, the British craving for Tea and the consequential Sylhet boundary changes. Here they are in chronological order:
Pre 1834 - Sylhet (stretching from the present day Bangladeshi division of Sylhet to the Karimganj district of Assam, India) and Cachar are integral parts of ‘Bengal‘.
C.1834 - Robert Bruce discovers Tea in the north eastern reaches of the Indian frontier (modern day Assam and Sylhet) at a time when China had a monopoly on tea (i.e. a ‘brew’ was quite expensive and the British needed to find a less expensive alternative).
1839 - the Assam Tea Company is established.
1854 - the Malnicherra Tea Company is established in Sylhet district and master sailors of Sylhet district navigate through the complex network of Bengal waterways and assist in its global export.
1874 - A new Assam province is created and combined with the majority Sylheti speaking districts of Sylhet and Cachar (and Assamese hill districts). For the first time in its history: Sylhet is separated from Bengal to form a combined separate province with Assam and Cachar and with its capital in Shillong.
Sylhet was annexed only to boost Assam revenues and make the new province financially viable. This event marks a monumental track change in the course of the people who speak Sylheti. Tea companies in the Sylhet-Assam region flourish and becomes the most popular tea in the world!
1905 - the first partition of Bengal is implemented and we have first sight of what lies ahead, a divided Bengal with Western Bengal (now West Bengal, India) and Eastern Bengal and Assam (now Bangladesh and Assam, India) as two separate states. Dhaka is promoted in status to the capital of Eastern Bengal and Assam.
The first partition of Bengal sparks the first mass protests against British Rule and ignites the start of the Swadeshi movement (boycott of British garments) and, of course, the Indian independence movement with the Bengali song, Vande Mataram adopted by India’s Congress Party.
1911 - the first partition of Bengal is annulled and Sylhet combines with Assam once again and is separated from Bengal, yet again.
1911 to c.1930/40s - Hindu-Muslim elites collaborate and thrive in the tea production industry enjoying global revenues - but, European traders dominate with their technical know-how.
1930/40s to pre 1947 - Hindu-Muslim elite collaboration starts to twindle and the concept of separate Hindu and Muslim homelands starts to take hold.
1947 - a referendum is called asking Sylheti residents to vote on the following question: “Should Sylhet join East Bengal?” 57% of voters voted to join East Bengal, Pakistan.
This, unexpectedly, results in the partition of Sylhet with Karimganj district joining Assam, India; and the remainder joining East Pakistan. A consequence of the shaping of this international boundary is that the majority of the tea plantations transfer to Assam, India.
The above is complex but important in ensuring a proper understanding of Sylheti identity which was the one unchanging constant in the midst of the myriad of boundary changes. Sylhet was part of Bengal (or Vanga/Bongo) for thousands of years until its brief c.70 year period of ‘shifting sands’ between 1874 and 1947. What caused the ‘sands’ to shift? The world’s love of tea. During these shifting sands, Hindu and Muslim elites, although working collaboratively, found themselves on opposing sides of the boundary adjustment argument.
During the creation of Assam and integration of Sylhet with Assam - Hindu elites found themselves holding strong their Bengali identity. Whereas Muslim elites argued that they were better off with a united ‘tea territory’ in Assam. Both groups profiting handsomely from their endeavours in the tea business.
Then, during the 1947 referendum - views shifted again and we see Muslim elites who previously argued for integration with Assam, now argue for a separation from Assam and the integration of Sylhet into East Bengal, Pakistan. Whereas the Hindu elites who previously argued for a Bengali identity and a united Bengal, now argue for the continuation of Sylhet to remain integrated with Assam and join India.
The result of the referendum was for the Sylheti speaking peoples of Sylhet, Karimganj, and Cachar to be separated permanently by international boundaries. From this complex history of the Sylheti people and clear instability, I think we can get a sense of why Sylhetis may seek some form of stability through a Sylheti identity, be it language and/or ‘race’.
Right, so we’re going to get even more technical now - so here goes:
UK Law on race
The Race Relations Act 1968 doesn’t appear to define ‘race’ (please email us if this is not the case) but I did have a look at the UK’s Equalities Act 2010 which states at Section 10 that: “Race includes-
colour;
Nationality;
Ethnic or national origins
In UK law, language does not appear to be a distinguishing factor in defining race. Which makes perfect sense and many peoples who identify as the same race speak a multitude of different languages.
How are races categorised in the UK?
Here is the most up to date list of recognised ethnic groups in the UK, since the last census back in 2011 for the major categories, “White” and “Asian” for comparison:
White
English / Welsh / Scottish / Northern Irish / British
Irish
Gypsy or Irish Traveller
Any other White background
Asian / Asian British
Indian
Pakistani
Bangladeshi
Chinese
Any other Asian background
Now that we have a bit more of a firmer understanding of the past, it’s quite clear what the issue with such ‘tick box’ forms is: they do not provide sufficient granularity for complex identities that Sylhetis have. Take our last contributor: Sunny. At home he speaks Sylheti with his parents. However, his ‘origin’ is Assam, India. Thus, he would tick the Indian box in the above example. How about me? I also speak Sylheti with my parents - however, my ‘origin’ is Bangladesh. So I would tick the Bangladeshi box. In the objective eyes of the statistician, Sunny and I would, potentially, be of different ethnic sub-categories. But are we? I don’t think so.
The next census is due for 2021 (unless the current crisis delays this) - so that’s your chance to at least get Bengali recognised as an ethnic sub-group; or even Sylheti if that’s the ethnic group you identify with. Perhaps all of this is just labels, futile, and not needed and there should really only be one race - the Human Race. I agree 100% with this notion, when we take several hundred steps back and view the world from space, we are all just ‘ants’. But, once we start to look at policies under the ‘microscope’, it’s then we notice how different ethnic groups are impacted, differently, and ‘tracking’ these disparities becomes important. The numbers don’t lie (usually) and the only way to track is to get the numbers correct and sufficiently granular.
For me it’s not about separate identities and separate states. It is just about recognition and acknowledgement about complex identities. Just as you can be White, British, and Gaelic - or simply Welsh without the inference of wanting independence; those who so choose to be identified as so should be able to call themselves: Asian, Bangladeshi or Indian, and Sylheti - or just Sylheti.
This question is way beyond my remit and will require a Human Rights Lawyer to answer (any takers?). So, for now, I’ll leave you with this interesting case summary, yes I was also shocked to find it!
Kabir v Bangladesh Women’s Association
The very same (almost) question of this post was also posed by a UK Industrial Tribunal chair in a case on this very subject dating back to the 90s! The case is around the alleged unfair dismissal of a former employee of the North London Bangladesh Women’s Association (‘NLBWA’), who originates from Komilla in Bangladesh, on the grounds of racial discrimination by other NLBWA employees of predominately Sylheti origin.
The tribunal chair, I Walker, stated: “no evidence of the Sylhetis having a cultural tradition of their own including family and social custom and manners. We find there is little to distinguish the Sylhetis from the Komillans in this respect. We find there was no separate language. It is not in dispute that the religion is the same in both areas and there is no history of conflict, oppression or domination…”
It’s been a bit of a journey of discovery for me and realisation that, for the majority of my 30 odd years, I have been completely ignorant to what was once one of the world’s most historic events: the referendum of Sylhet during the reign of the British Empire. There is probably no event more intertwined in British Bengali identity issues than this one and yet - there remains a failure to even a moment's mention of this event in British history lessons. Even in recent documentaries on South Asian independence stories (which have got a lot better in reporting finesse), I can’t remember hearing a mention of the Sylhet referendum; not even as a segue into Brexit. I think it means it’s up to us: if we don’t tell our story, who will? That's my thoughts and it would be great to get yours too! Anyway, now for that fresh mug of Saa.