How to talk about Nepāl bhāṣā
There is at present, again, a debate around the correct terms with which to refer to the language spoken by the original inhabitants of Nepāl Maṇḍala. With the UNESCO Decade of Indigenous Languages well underway, this seems to be a good time to lay out a position on the debate. My position in this debate has changed; after many years living and working with Indigenous activists and scholars, I am much less willing to tolerate the conventions of colonial scholarship.
What are the words in question? When we are speaking, we say
𑐣𑐾𑐧𑐵: 𑐨𑐵𑐫𑑂 𑐏𑑄 𑐳𑑅 𑐮𑐵 ?
Do you understand Newāḥ bhāy?
So in spoken language, we use the tadbhava word Newāḥ bhay. A tadbhava is a word which is derived from a Sanskrit original, and we use them a lot – even ordinary postpositions such as 𑐥𑐵𑐏𑐾, ‘on/to the side of’ is clearly from the Sanskrit term पक्ष, side.
In more formal language, such as writing or even inscriptions, we use a more Sanskritic term.
𑐠𑑂𑐧 𑐳𑐴𑐹 𑐣𑐾𑐥𑐵𑐮 𑐨𑐵𑐲𑐵𑐫𑑂 𑐏𑑅 𑐮𑐵 ?
Is this book in Nepāl bhāṣā?
So these are the two words we use for the language spoken by 𑐣𑐾𑐥𑐵: 𑐩𑐶, the original people of Nepāl Maṇḍala.
Other people use other words, though. This is not really surprising; English speakers say ‘German’ and ‘Spanish’ for languages their own speakers would call Deutsch and Castellano or Español. Tibetans used to call the language of Nepāl Maṇḍala བལ་པོ་སྐད་ (balpo skad), for example. Another word that is often used for our language is Newari. It’s been used by European scholars for a long time; Jorgensen’s dictionaries and studies of classical texts called it Nevārī. The term Newari is derived from the word ‘Nepāl’, but it’s not a word from Nepāl Bhāṣā. It actually comes from Gorkhali (that it is a derived term within Gorkhali is obvious from the -i suffix).
Until very recently, even within the modern nation-state now called ‘Nepal’, the word actually just referred to Nepāl Maṇḍala. So a Gorkhali speaker from Pokhara would say म नेपाल जन्छु to mean, “I’m going to Kathmandu”. Similarly, Gorkhali speakers referred to their own language as Gorkhali, a word which points back to the powerful 18th century dynasty that conquered the whole of the central Himalayas, though now they would call it ‘Nepali’. Historically, we know that the expansion of the Gorkha kingdom from a petty monarchy into what Ernst Gellner referred to as a ‘conquest empire’ depended on the violent subjugation of the cosmopolitan city-states of Nepāl Maṇḍala. From this point onwards, the diverse original communities of Nepāl Maṇḍala became a single Indigenous people within an increasingly intolerant state. By the 20th century, those who spoke or wrote Nepāl Bhāṣā could be fined, imprisoned, tortured, or exiled simply for using their own language.
In other words, the word Newari is the word that the Gorkhali conquerors used to refer to the language of the colonized peoples of Nepāl Maṇḍala. It is a term of abuse and subjugation. The Rana princes of the Gorkhali state established warm relationships with the British Raj and other colonial or imperial states of the late 19th and earlier 20th centuries, and it is not at all surprising therefore that visiting scholars learned to use this word for the language of the subjugated peoples whose texts they wanted to study.
The irony here is that the terms Newari and Nepali are almost the same word with different accents. Nonetheless, one word—Nepali—appropriates the name of a subjugated landscape, adds an –i suffix, and refers to the language of the victors; and the other is a derogatory term they use to refer to the language of the oppressed.
One might object, as indeed I once did, that the speakers of one language should be able to determine the word they use in their language for another language. Where there is no history of brutal domination, perhaps this makes sense; but there are many derogatory words no longer acceptable in English. Newari is such a word.
July 2024, Scotland.