National Symbols Are Being Turned Violent: T.M. Krishna On India, Democracy

I think many things that came together at a certain moment. I think one is the fact that I think many of us feel great amount of sadness and discomfort when we look around us. It's not anger or discomfort for me, actually. It used to be that, but it's turned into sadness. It's not about what politicians are saying only. It's about what even common people are saying. Even the tone of the discourse, some fundamental, even like human values have just been thrown out of the window.

Also, I started singing all the verses of Jana Gana Mana some years ago. I was profoundly moved by it - especially that one line where he talks about all the religions, the Buddhists, the Jains, the Christians, the Muslims. And also the other verse where he talks about the fact that that the country is in darkness and will the sun rise from the eastern hills? I think it had a great emotional impact on me.

I started thinking about the song, and not historically, but even what the song is? What do I feel when l say, I'm Indian. Is it just something that's constructed in my head from childhood or does it have value?

And the third layer is what you also mentioned. It is how you see on an everyday basis, how some of these very important symbols have been manipulated, twisted, lies added upon them, transformed into representing something that is completely different. Not just different, also violent at levels. So all this, I think, came together.

And there's one moment, I think, which was a trigger. I gave a talk on Jana Gana Mana at Kerala Literature Festival some years ago. At the talk, just intuitively I called Jana Gana Mana a protest song. It stuck with me. Then I started investigating, can the anthem be a protest song? That moment was the moment of the catalyst.

It's also about us taking the effort of reimagining ourselves in the present. So, which is why this book is a conversation many ways of the past and the present. I'm not writing as a historian. I'm writing as a person who's observing something and trying to go to the past and make sense and find some pathway.

I think they definitely can. I think the spirit behind every symbol was how can this symbol encompass the entire landscape that we were making, which we called India? How can it, in a way, be a visual, an oral, a lyrical representation of all the people that we are, and therefore the intention behind the symbols itself, that was that we envy the people that it is the larger we.

And we have to find a way in which the values that these symbols propagate or suggest is something that everybody needs to kind of embrace. Or learn to embrace. The other thing we forget the symbols, many of them also had historical significance. They were reimagined when they were made out of symbols.

It was not like they just took something from Ashoka period, said this is what Ashoka thought of it. No, there was a new narrative and that's very important. Not just strategic but also very focused on the fact that we're building a new nation. That new imagination that was given to these symbols is also a fascinating thing to explore.

I think that law has no place in our democracy. I'm very clear about it. I think in the, in the book there are two opinions that I, at present, yes, right. But I don't believe, which is why I bring that whole Periyar debate.

And I think DMK leader Annadurai's speech in that legislative assembly is brilliant. Periyar had threatened to burn the Constitution, so, Anna talks about why is he doing it? Does he hate the Constitution? No. It is because he wants the government to fix the deficiencies.

Tamil Nadu is a state that actually opened that whole thing of having this prevention of insults to Indian symbols.

I very strongly believe that that act has no place in our democracy. For an everyday person the nation and the State are the same. There's no difference.

When I'm angry with the State, I target the symbol of the State. To me it's the same as the nation? Whether it's the flag or anything, if I say, I want to show my anger towards that. I don't believe that we should be stopped from doing. I don't believe that has room in a democracy. Absolutely.

I mean, it's a no brainer for me. Sedition is ridiculous. It's beyond ridiculous. And I also say in the book that preventive detention has no place in our constitution. And, and I asked the question and I say that I know when it came into the Constituent Assembly, Ambedkar was also for it.

Just think of it conceptually, this is not a reasonable restriction in our fundamental rights. We have a provision to put away somebody on preventive detention for months. How is this, how does this make sense as a citizen? This just doesn't make sense. So I don't believe any of this has space.

Yeah, I know people will say, we have situations of terrorism, the bogey of national security. But I think if you want certain laws for these categories, they have to be very sharp, specific and narrowly defined aspects.

Just look at the conviction rate in for example, UAPA. It’s just 2.2 per cent.

It's been completely maligned and manipulated and I think it's done even before the new statue. The statue is the reflection of what has already happened. Those lions in the original are lions of compassion, lions overseeing the land to make sure there's justice for everybody, that everybody is cared for. And in Buddhist mythology or religion, those lions are the Buddha, they are the Sakhyamuni. The concept of those lions are very different.

We have made our lions resemble colonial lions. They look like the lions people saw under British rule or the East India Company—symbols meant to declare power over everyone else. Placing such lions on Parliament is deeply ironic. Parliament represents the people, so where do the people stand when these symbols dominate it?

This is bravado, chest-thumping and display. And as we know, the bully is often the weakest person. What we are seeing now is bullying.

On caste, Gandhi’s arguments are deeply problematic. There is no doubt about that. He was unable to understand the problem. And I think caste itself was blinder. As a result, he took all the attention, took over the discourse, and became the discourse itself.

This meant that the person who should have been the voice of the discourse—Ambedkar—could not be. Stepping back is especially hard for those with caste privilege.

Gandhi’s easy acceptance reflects this. Even today, we hear statements like: “Despite being from a privileged caste, see how caring he is.” These attitudes persist even today. Now place this in Gandhi’s period. This is power. Gandhi is also seen as an almost saintly figure, which greatly amplifies that power and, in turn, blinds him to this problem.

Gandhi is therefore praised for his progressive positions, while Ambedkar has to constantly fight to assert that justice is not a favour, but a right.

This tension is important to recognise, which is why I approach it this way. Especially for someone like me, with caste privilege and an ongoing engagement with society, it is crucial to see the problems in Gandhi’s arguments—and in the language he uses.

Gandhi often says he respects Ambedkar’s intelligence, calls him brilliant, but then describes him as “hurt,” or says Ambedkar can spit on his face and it must be accepted. These statements are deeply problematic. It reduces Ambedkar to an emotional state and, in doing so, undermines his intellect and agency.

These are clear signs of the limitations in Gandhi’s discourse. Still, it is a discourse we must continue to engage with. And neither Gandhi, neither Ambedkar ever held back, which is excellent. The reason why we can have this debate because both of them didn't hold back. And we can look at it. And it's important for us to look at those debates.

I have been thinking about Vande Mataram even last two, three days. How do I describe it? I don't know whether to call it two songs or three songs. It's not one song. Of course, historically we know that the first two verses were written between 1872 and 1875, or 74 and 75, depending on how you want to see it. And the rest were written closer to 1881. But to me, the second verse itself is a problem.

First verse, I think, is actually a beautiful verse. Now if you have a problem with the idea of a feminine mother to a nation, then the first verse will also be a problem.

The second verse itself is problematic because there is a sudden shift to the torment people are facing. A population count is introduced, followed by a call to rise. The change in tone is stark.

Then there is a complete transformation in the third and fourth paragraphs, where the image becomes what we recognise today as the Mother Goddess, accompanied by a tiger. The transformation is very rapid.

This cannot be seen as accidental. Bankim uses the song as a central element in the novel, which is not only anti-government but clearly anti-Muslim. The context in which the song appears matters: Hindu sanyasis are shown burning villages and attacking Muslim settlements, not ony fighting sepoys or the king’s army.

In my book, I use Vande Mataram almost metaphorically. Even in the Constituent Assembly debates, it is repeatedly linked with demands for a national song, national dress, Hindi as the national language, cow protection, and the Uniform Civil Code. These issues are often bundled together.

Vande Mataram sits at the top of this value system—a set of ideas promoted by a particular group. For me, it encapsulates several parochial impulses that have no place in a democratic, Jana Gana Mana India.

This became increasingly clear to me, not only through the song but also after reading the debates. Those who insisted on Vande Mataram were also committed to a particular set of values.

Take the Directive Principles and Fundamental Duties in the Constitution. At times, they are puzzling. The Directive Principles include the cow—formally under animal husbandry, but effectively about the cow—and the Uniform Civil Code. We often forget the arguments made by the framers: that any civil code had to emerge with community participation, and that the process mattered. Muslim members of the Constituent Assembly asked a sharp question: whose uniformity is being sought? That question remains deeply relevant today.

Alongside this is the sensibility of Jana Gana Mana, which is fascinating. There is also another sensibility: Subh sukh chain ki barkha barse, the Hindustani version of Jana Gana Mana, translated by Abid Hassan for Subhas Chandra Bose.

I see Jana Gana Mana as expressing the loftier ideals of this vision, while Subh sukh chain ki barkha barse captures its everyday life. You hear it on the streets; its language is more colloquial, more grounded. Tagore’s version is more stately, even upper crusty, but the two sensibilities remain in conversation with each other.

I think to me an India would be a combination of both these, Jana Gana Mana and Subh sukh chain ki barkha barse. And that's probably the India that we should be.

I have often wondered why that motto was chosen. Out of all possibilities, why Satyameva Jayate? It is a highly abstract idea, and its meaning in the Upanishads is quite different. There, satya comes from sat, meaning reality. It is tied to the idea of maya, and its interpretation is not about everyday truth—truth as you and I understand it. In the Upanishadic, advaitic sense, sat refers to the realisation of ultimate reality, or the self, beyond illusion.

Today, however, we use Satyameva Jayate to mean “truth alone triumphs”. If satya is an abstract idea, how can it “win”? Truth itself cannot be victorious; only those who speak or act in truth can be. Seen this way, the phrase gains real relevance today.

Victory here is not literal. It means finding a way forward, especially in an age of WhatsApp University, post-truth, and competing truths. That is why the motto matters, and why it appears on every official letterhead.

This is where education becomes crucial: in our classrooms, our history textbooks, and what we teach our children. Facts and truth are not the same. Are we teaching both? If these ideas are embedded in education, they gain social value. But expecting a slogan alone to change behaviour overnight is unrealistic.

Yes, this may sound idealistic, and perhaps it is. But idealism matters. Practical change begins with ideas that seem unreachable. The real task is to translate them into practice: in classrooms, through debate, through examining history from multiple perspectives.

In that sense, Satyameva Jayate does have value. Truth itself does not “win”. We do. The people of India are the ones who stand to gain—not truth as an abstraction, but through our collective engagement with it.

The editor and I debated it also. It's not officially a symbol, if you look at it that way. It is, in a way, a symbol of the Constitution. You can't take go to court based on what the preamble said will give me. It is a symbolic of everything else we have written in the Constitution. And I think one of the main reasons that it stayed fresh in my head was CAA protests.

But it became a symbol beyond the Constitution. At some level who would have thought that you will have lawyers and in courts all over, in Shaheen Bagh and everywhere people read out the preamble? And there's also a personal reason. At that point of time I was part of the protests and I started singing the preamble in other languages.

So I sang in Malayalam, I sang in Tamil, I sang in Kannada. Three languages I've sung it. I've also sung it in Hindi. And that's when, in fact, they touched me even more. So maybe that connection with. So that symbol of what it did to me in some way was also a reason why I chose it. But I think it has become symbolic of our republic. And the book kind of recognises that. I think at some level.

India of Gandhi's imagination was an awakening of everyone where those in power could be made to understand the unethical nature of their presence through non violent means. Where does India of today stand on that scale? Will we ever reach there or are we too far away from that dream to be realised?

The India of today is an India of arrogance being legitimised. It's not just arrogance being displayed, it's arrogance being legitimised, violence being legitimised, abuse being legitimised, lies being legitimised, manipulation being legitimised. I'm using a lot of negative words here, I know, but that's how I feel that all this has become normalised today. And that's definitely not just the India.

It's not India that you and I want, right? India can't be a country where just the story of one set of people is constantly told in the manner that they want to manipulate. It can't be right.

So I think always what is a healthy society? Always wonder what's a healthy society? I always think that in society there should be tension, so say both of us are holding it tight. So both of us are like saying different things. But that tension is a fairly robust and fairly equal society. If one side does not have tension, there's no. Today we don't even have a string because every one of us are scared to speak. We are measuring our words, measuring our thoughts. Forget about words, measuring our thoughts. So we are very, very, very far.

And I think we are also to blame for the situation. The fact is we did not address hierarchical violence and hierarchical oppression in our society which has been systemic for generations in a more effective manner. Laws are not enough. Cultural transformation of society has to go beyond saying I have a Constitution that gives people rights.

So but what did we do for that? I think we did nothing. I know I'm being very harsh.

Systematically we have not done enough. To, to develop a culture of democratic living, culture of equity and equality and justice and fraternity. We've not developed that, which is why we are where we are today. Which is why we can't even think of self realisation that Gandhi wanted.

So in terms of practices, I like to see two things. One is directly as far as symbols go, I feel one important practise is every one of us can actually have a relationship with these symbols. That's, I think, a very important thing for us.

I would urge every citizen to engage with these symbols as possibilities for both self-transformation and social change—for difficult conversations, disagreement, and debate. If used in this way, and I think this book allows for that, they can open up meaningful discussion.

What we have largely lost is the ability to listen. Listening is a civic habit, and we need to reclaim it. When we stop listening, it becomes easier to be manipulated. Hate is easier, anger is easier—everything becomes easier. This is not abstract; we see it happening every day.

As a musician, I understand the importance of listening perhaps more keenly than most. As a teacher, I know that the hardest part of music is not singing, but listening. If I teach a student how to listen carefully, my job is done. They will correct themselves, learn from what they hear, and no longer need me. For me, listening is paramount.