by PAOLA BARBAN
On February 21, many residents in Monfalcone will also celebrate International Mother Language Day, established by the UN to promote multilingualism and respect for native languages. For the Bangladeshi community, this date has a particularly profound meaning: it commemorates the events of 1952, when in what was then East Pakistan (now Bangladesh), students and civilians were repressed and killed for demanding the right to speak and study Bengali, which was then denied as an official language by the central government. It is precisely from that historical tragedy that, years later, international recognition of the value of the mother tongue was born.
Understanding this historical context is crucial to understanding why the Bangladeshi community celebrates this day with such conviction. However, in the specific context of Monfalcone, the anniversary highlights a glaring contradiction that has fueled local public debate for years: the still widespread difficulty of a significant portion of the foreign population in learning and using the Italian language, despite living permanently in Italy.
According to data updated as of January 1, 2025, 9,832 foreign citizens reside in the municipality of Monfalcone, equal to approximately 32.4% of the total population. Of these, 5,677 are Bangladeshi citizens, representing 57.7% of the total foreign resident population. Considering that the city’s total population is approximately 30,000, the Bangladeshi community alone represents approximately 18–19% of the entire municipal population, a significant numerical and social presence.
The problem isn’t the celebration of one’s native language per se. Valuing one’s cultural roots, especially in light of a history of linguistic repression, is legitimate and understandable. In a democratic society, multilingualism can actually be a source of wealth. The critical issue arises when the defense of one’s own language isn’t matched by an adequate commitment to learning the language of the host country, which remains the fundamental tool for communication, civil coexistence, and participation in public life.
In recent years, according to many observers and residents, the situation has not improved, but in some respects has worsened. A significant role has also been played by some Islamic centers, which could have become places of meeting and cultural mediation, but in practice have remained primarily spaces for internal gatherings. Frequented almost exclusively by people of the same community and language, these settings have often reinforced a closed social environment, rather than fostering the learning of Italian and an openness to the local culture.
This withdrawal should not only be interpreted as a lack of willpower, but also as a reflection of a significant cultural distance. The Italian way of life—more secular, individualistic, based on open social relationships, gender equality, and personal autonomy—can be very different, sometimes difficult to understand, or even a source of fear for those from more traditional cultural and religious backgrounds. In this sense, retreating into the community can also represent a defensive reaction in the face of a change perceived as destabilizing.
One thing remains clear, however: knowledge of the Italian language is neither optional nor a cultural concession. It is a responsibility for those who choose to live permanently in Italy. Without a common language, integration, participation, and truly shared coexistence cannot exist.
For Monfalcone, the February 21st celebration could therefore represent not only a moment of historical remembrance and recognition of native languages, but also an opportunity to reaffirm a fundamental principle: defending one’s own language is a right, learning the language of the country one lives in is a duty. Only by combining these two aspects is it possible to build a cohesive, open, and forward-looking community.