Giving up your language won’t earn you belonging: Dangerous pride in losing one’s own identity

The East Bengal-origin Muslims have been part of Assam’s social fabric for generations. What was once a term of respect ‘Miya’ has, over the decades and especially after the Assam Movement, become a slur, loaded with political and cultural baggage. The language spoken in their homes, often considered a dialect of Bengali, has long been a symbol of their distinct identity. Yet, over time, many from the community made efforts to assimilate adopting Assamese language and cultural practices.

Despite this prolonged assimilation and in many cases, the painful abandonment of cultural roots, they continue to face the burden of identity. Even today, they are often labelled Bangladeshi, a term weaponized to question their belonging, loyalty, and legitimacy.

This piece, however, isn’t about retracing the complex and painful history of the community. It is about a dangerous idea being promoted by a section within the community itself, those who proudly proclaim: “We gave up our mother tongue.”

Let’s ask a simple question:
Who asked you to?

The act of surrendering one’s mother tongue or cultural heritage in pursuit of acceptance is neither noble nor necessary. It reinforces a troubling belief that to be accepted, one must erase their uniqueness. This isn’t assimilation, it’s self-erasure. And celebrating that erasure as a “sacrifice” worthy of reward romanticizes a deeply flawed idea that conformity should be traded for validation.

The notion that one can “become Assamese” only after letting go of their own identity suggests that Assamese culture is rigid and exclusionary, which is far from the truth. Assamese society, at its best, is a mosaic of multiple communities, languages, and histories. True Assamese identity is not about sameness but about shared space, respect, and mutual recognition.

Moreover, giving up one’s mother tongue often comes at the cost of dignity. A language is more than words; it holds within it history, memory, and soul. Choosing to report ‘Assamese’ as one’s mother tongue in official records, merely to appear “mainstream,” is not a sign of integration, it’s a symptom of insecurity and a desire to escape targeted discrimination. It reflects not unity, but fear-driven conformity.

Those who call the erasure of mother tongue a noble sacrifice are not helping the community; they are distorting its journey. Dignity lies in preserving identity, not in discarding it for conditional acceptance.

If there’s one lesson history has taught us, it’s that respect comes not from how much we give up, but from how confidently we stand in who we are.