Language feels so natural that we may forget it is among the most powerful of political tools. It frames how we see ourselves, how we define others and even what ideas we can conceive of. Battles over which words we use, what books are read and whose pronouns one acknowledges are not petty culture skirmishes, they are about who is in control of society. Having perfected the use of language is equivalent to being able to influence others.

Language as Control
History makes this simple. Empires have constantly policed language: colonisers outlawed the native tongue to weaken opposition; authoritarian governments rewrote dictionaries to fit their ideology. In 1984, George Orwell made a point and did not exaggerate when he created the “Newspeak” figure, a language that “was designed not to extend but to diminish the range of thought.” If you have fewer words, you have fewer ways to be in rebellion. The contemporary examples are quieter but eerily similar: A country silences words like “genocide,” “oppression,” or “occupation,” because saying the truth is not a neutral act; it is itself defiance.

Euphemisms are not benign; they warp our view, shading the reality we face. After all, language is a weapon of soft power even in liberal societies. When a government refers to “collateral damage” instead of civilian casualties, it is using antiseptic language for violence. People often use a certain type of vocabulary to convey the meaning of an event from their own perspective or in the way they want the reader to view it, making the reader instantly have a framed reaction rather than a neutral one. 

Language as Identity
At the same time, language is intensely personal. It is the rhythm of belonging. That is why fights about words are never just academic. Pronouns, for example, appear minuscule, two or three letters at most. Still, the battle over what to call someone’s “he”, “she”, or “they” is ultimately about how people are perceived across different parts of society. It is important to allow individuals to choose the words by which they wish to be defined - to deny someone their pronouns is to deny their identity.

Communities are also working to revive endangered languages. In many parts of the world, children are now learning words that their grandparents were once punished for using. Some time before, it was considered illegal or even shameful to speak your native language, rather than “fitting” with the community, however there are still some countries or regions that do not recognise endangered languages. This should not be considered nostalgia; it is survival of a whole ethnicity along with their culture. Every language carries unique worldviews, humour, and memory. When a language disappears, so does a way of being human. That is why activists who call for bilingual education or resist linguistic erasure are not holding on to the past - they are carving out space in the future.

Language as Hierarchy
language does not just connect; it also divides. Accents are judged and dialects are mocked. The line between “proper” and “broken” English, or “standard” and “slang,” is usually the line between who has cultural capital and who does not. Someone with an Oxford accent will be heard differently than someone speaking Caribbean English, even if both say the exact same thing. That bias seeps into job interviews, classrooms, and politics.

This hierarchy is old, but globalisation sharpens it. English has become the default of international business, science, and pop culture. On one hand, it opens doors. On the other, it sidelines billions of people. A climate activist from Kenya may have powerful ideas, but if they cannot phrase them in fluent English, will the world take them  seriously? Who gets to speak shapes who gets to lead.

This is why “the politics of language” has become one of the hottest battlefields in today’s culture wars. Book bans in U.S. schools pose as child protection ,while in actuality silencing marginalised voices. Arguments about “woke language,” in other words, are not usually arguments about language; they are generally arguments about discomfort with social change. The panic about pronouns, gender-neutral terms, classes, or speech patterns is just an example of how scared people are to lose their cultural dominance.

Inclusive language, critics say, is superfluous or confusing. But the issue is not clear; it is a matter of comfort. When society incorporates new words into its lexicon, it means that new identities and experiences are worthy of acknowledgement. That acknowledgement can seem threatening to people accustomed to seeing their way of speaking held up as the standard. The pushback tells us little about grammar, but much about power.

Why Words Matter
Sceptics naturally inquire: why does it matter what we name things? Is this not just semantics? The answer is that it does matter because words frame reality. One can describe refugees as “illegal aliens” and, suddenly, in the public eye, they are criminals. Call them “asylum seekers,” and they are men and women in need of protection: same group, same lives - different use of language, different public response.

It is why everyone from governments and advertisers to activists obsess over language. A single term moves public opinion more than a thousand statistics. Consider how “gay marriage” turned into “marriage equality.” The first version casts it as a notable exception; the second casts it as fairness. That was a small tweak that changed the nature of the debate. Even in something as simple as the difference between saying “the prices only fell by $2” and “the prices fell by a shockingly high $2”, the reader’s understanding of the news shifts instantly.

The optimistic side of this story is that language can emancipate as much as it enslaves. Understood that way, new words breathe life and form into what was previously unnamed. “Microaggression” (a small discriminatory act of speech or behaviour) or “mansplaining” (the usually male explanation of something, patronisingly given to a woman) are terms that name patterns people have long endured but found hard to describe. They can be challenged if named or even modified when challenged.

Language is endlessly adaptable. It grows with us. Indeed, societies that once repressed local languages now actively fund language revival - a slower shift already exists in the resistance ofpronouns. Of course, no change is seamless, but it is also not impossible.

Where Do We Go From Here?
So, who owns words? The truth is: no one , and everyone does. Language belongs to the communities that speak it, twist it, stretch it, and breathe life into it. Politicians and pundits may try to police words, but living speech always slips through. Slang becomes standard. Marginalised voices reshape the mainstream. Words migrate across borders faster than armies ever could.

That is the paradox of language politics: it can be tightly controlled, but never fully contained. If history shows anything, it is that attempts to silence words only make them echo louder.

Closing Thought

More than terminology, language politics determines visibility. Every recognised speech brings someone into the light, whereas every phrase that is forbidden erases someone. Fighting over language is fighting for the limits of what constitutes a fully human being. Words are never "just words" for this reason. They stand at the heart of freedom, and the fight is always worthwhile. 

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