By Ali Syarief

In an era of globalization, where mastering foreign languages is increasingly viewed as a necessity, a fundamental question often goes unasked: why are we so eager to learn the languages of the world while allowing our own mother tongues to fade away?

My friend and mentor, Mr. Kenshi Suzuki, CEO of LEX/Hippo Family Club Japan—an NGO dedicated to promoting multilingualism—once told me:

“People who are multilingual have smarter brains.”

This statement is not merely a personal opinion. Research in neurolinguistics and cognitive psychology has consistently shown that multilingual individuals tend to possess greater cognitive flexibility, stronger memory, and enhanced problem-solving abilities. Professor Ellen Bialystok of York University, Canada, has demonstrated that speaking multiple languages strengthens executive brain functions and may even delay cognitive decline associated with aging.

There is, therefore, nothing wrong with encouraging young people to learn foreign languages. In fact, the ability to communicate across cultures is becoming increasingly important in the modern world.

However, a troubling paradox emerges when enthusiasm for foreign languages is not matched by efforts to preserve our indigenous ones.

Recently, Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto encouraged young Indonesians to learn French and Brazilian Portuguese. From a practical perspective, such encouragement may be understandable. Foreign languages can facilitate international cooperation, expand economic opportunities, and broaden intellectual horizons.

Yet the timing raises an uncomfortable question.

Why are we encouraging the study of foreign languages while many of Indonesia’s native languages are quietly disappearing?

Across the archipelago, mother tongues are steadily losing ground.

Many Javanese children can no longer speak Javanese fluently. Many Sundanese children feel more comfortable communicating in Indonesian than in Sundanese. In countless households, indigenous languages are no longer the language of everyday conversation.

Parents often choose Indonesian in the belief that it offers greater educational and social advantages. While well-intentioned, this shift has created a generation increasingly disconnected from the languages that shaped the identity of their ancestors.

Indonesia is home to approximately 718 indigenous languages, making it one of the most linguistically diverse countries on Earth. Yet many of these languages are now classified as vulnerable, endangered, or critically endangered because they are no longer being transmitted to younger generations.

This is why language should never be viewed merely as a tool of communication.

Language is a way of seeing the world.

The Austrian philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein famously wrote:

“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.”

Every language carries unique ways of understanding life, society, and human relationships. Sundanese embodies intricate systems of respect and courtesy. Javanese preserves traditions of social harmony and hierarchy. Bugis contains the concept of siri’, a profound code of honor and dignity. Minangkabau reflects a rich philosophical tradition rooted in custom and collective wisdom.

When a language disappears, we lose far more than vocabulary.

We lose a unique worldview.

UNESCO has repeatedly emphasized the importance of mother tongues as vehicles for cultural transmission. One of its most cited statements declares:

“Languages are the most powerful instruments of preserving and developing our tangible and intangible heritage.”

Language carries history, wisdom, values, stories, and collective memory. It connects generations across time.

For this reason, learning indigenous languages should never be regarded as a backward-looking endeavor. On the contrary, it is a necessary investment in cultural continuity and intellectual diversity.

There is no contradiction between speaking Sundanese and learning English. There is no conflict between mastering Javanese and studying French. There is no reason a child cannot be fluent in Batak, Indonesian, and Mandarin simultaneously.

Indeed, the strongest form of multilingualism begins with a strong foundation in one’s mother tongue.

Research consistently shows that children who develop literacy and fluency in their first language often find it easier to acquire additional languages later in life. A strong linguistic identity does not hinder global engagement; it strengthens it.

The world’s most successful nations understand this principle.

Japan became an economic powerhouse without abandoning Japanese. South Korea expanded its cultural influence through Korean. China rose to global prominence while preserving Mandarin. France fiercely protects French as a pillar of national identity. Brazil itself has never sacrificed Portuguese in pursuit of foreign languages.

Why, then, should Indonesia neglect the linguistic treasures that define its own civilization?

Learning foreign languages opens windows to the world.

Preserving indigenous languages ensures that we never lose our home.

Before teaching our children to speak the languages of distant nations, we should ensure that they can still speak the language of their grandparents.

Because when a nation loses its mother tongues, it loses more than words.

It loses memory.

It loses identity.

It loses a part of its soul.

And a nation that forgets its own voice will forever struggle to understand who it truly is.