Language is never static; it flows like a river, constantly reshaped by time, power, culture, and human interaction. History shows that languages capable of absorbing words from others are the ones that grow stronger and more resilient. English is perhaps the most prominent example. Its’ richness stems largely from centuries of borrowing and adaptation from diverse linguistic traditions.
Why is English so rich, one might ask? The answer lies in its openness. English has long been a welcoming language, absorbing and integrating words from countless other tongues across the world. A few examples illustrate this clearly.
Take the word ‘sugar.’ It did not come directly from Bangla. Its deeper origin can be traced to the Sanskrit word śarkarā, meaning gravel or crystalline sugar. From Sanskrit, the term moved into Persian as shakar and into Arabic as sukkar, eventually entering European languages before evolving into the English word sugar. In Bangla, the commonly used word chini also reflects this global journey, historically referring to sugar that came from China.
Similarly, the word ‘love’ originates from the Proto-Indo-European root lewbʰ-, meaning to desire, care for, or cherish. This root is related to Sanskrit terms such as lubhyati (to desire) and lobha (longing or greed). Although the English word did not develop directly from Sanskrit, both belong to the same broader Indo-European linguistic family.
Another example appears in religious terminology. The Islamic practice of wudu (ritual washing before prayer) comes from Arabic. In English, it is often translated as ‘ablution,’ yet many texts also retain the original words wudu or ozu directly. These examples demonstrate how English grows by embracing rather than resisting linguistic diversity.
Bangla, too, has evolved through a similar process. Over centuries, it has absorbed vocabulary from Sanskrit, Pali, Arabic, Persian, Portuguese, and English. Words such as adalat, bandobost, committee, and union all originated elsewhere, yet today they are fully naturalised within Bangla. This long tradition of linguistic exchange has shaped the language into a vibrant and flexible medium of expression.
Yet a new debate has emerged in recent years. In political speeches, media headlines, talk shows, and social media discourse, certain words – azadi, inqilab, insaf, bayan, mazlum, and naya bandobosta – have suddenly become more visible and frequent. This raises a critical question: are these changes simply part of natural linguistic evolution, or do they signal deeper ideological and cultural shifts?
Linguists generally agree that the entry and exit of words are part of a language’s normal lifecycle. Borrowed terms undergo phonetic and semantic adjustments, eventually becoming integral to the host language. Over time, their foreign origins fade into the background.
Bangla’s own history offers numerous examples. Words like ittefaq, inqilab, awami, and communist were once foreign imports; today they are seamlessly embedded in the linguistic and political vocabulary of Bangladesh. Even the names of major newspapers reflect such borrowings.
From this perspective, the recent popularity of words like insaf or azadi does not inherently threaten the integrity of Bangla. Languages possess their own internal vitality; only those words that resonate with everyday usage and social relevance ultimately endure.
The sudden prominence of these terms can largely be traced to political developments. Movements, rallies, and public speeches have elevated these words into common usage. When influential political figures repeatedly employ certain expressions, their supporters and audiences often adopt them, accelerating their spread into mainstream discourse.
Social media has amplified this process. Influencers and religious speakers with large followings frequently use such vocabulary, making it appear trendy or authoritative. For many young people, word choice has thus become intertwined with identity and belonging.
At the heart of the debate lies a deeper question: can words ever be neutral? Words do more than convey meaning, they carry cultural associations and ideological frameworks. For example, while justice and insaf may denote similar ideas, they evoke distinct conceptual contexts: one rooted in civic legal systems, the other often associated with religious or moral traditions.
This is where language intersects with power. The selection of certain terms over others reflects broader social and political dynamics. As the French thinker Roland Barthes argued in his influential work Mythologies, language does not merely describe reality – it actively constructs meaning and shapes collective perceptions. In this sense, shifts in vocabulary may also signal shifts in ideological orientation.
Bangladesh’s society is inherently pluralistic, shaped by multiple cultural and religious influences. However, in recent decades, identity politics has gained increasing prominence. For some groups, linguistic choices have become a means of asserting religious or cultural distinctiveness.
In certain cases, commonly used Bangla words are deliberately avoided because they are perceived as ‘too Sanskritic’ or culturally aligned with other traditions. Instead, words of Arabic or Persian origin are preferred to reinforce specific identity narratives. This trend reflects not only linguistic preference but also broader social and political aspirations.
Such shifts, when driven by ideological agendas, can carry risks. Language, ideally a bridge for communication, may become a marker of division if certain vocabularies are tied to particular identities or political loyalties.
This can create subtle but powerful social boundaries. When one group promotes a particular linguistic style, others may respond defensively, turning language into a site of contestation rather than shared expression.
For Bangladesh, language holds a uniquely emotional and historical significance. The struggle for linguistic rights in 1952 was not merely about communication. It was about cultural autonomy and political dignity. The memory of that sacrifice underscores the deep connection between language and national identity.
Yet protecting a language does not mean freezing it in time. Languages survive precisely because they evolve. The challenge lies in ensuring that such evolution remains inclusive rather than exclusionary.
The growing use of words like inqilab or azadi cannot simply be dismissed as linguistic invasion; they are part of the natural processes through which languages change and adapt. However, when word choices become instruments of ideological assertion or social division, they transcend purely linguistic concerns and enter the realm of politics and identity.
Ultimately, the strength of Bangla lies in its openness and diversity. Its history shows an extraordinary capacity to absorb, adapt, and harmonise influences from many sources. The task, therefore, is not to resist change but to remain vigilant; ensuring that language continues to unite rather than divide, and that its evolution enriches rather than narrows the shared cultural space.
The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author
The writer is an Author, Journalist and Language Instructor. E-mail: [email protected]
