Edited Patriotism

Edited Patriotism

In its decision to stick to the 1937 resolution and sing only the first two stanzas of Vande Mataram at party events, the Congress party has once again exposed its deep discomfort with the vocabulary of Indian nationalism. The Congress Working Committee’s reaffirmation of the 1937 position came even as the Central government moved to accord the National Song a stronger legal status.

The uncomfortable question is why Congress remains so eager to preserve a concession made in an era when Muslim League opposition and the politics of communal appeasement exerted enormous influence over the national movement.

Vande Mataram was not some obscure religious composition dragged into politics by the BJP. Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay’s hymn is one of the great battle cries of India’s freedom struggle. Generations of freedom fighters embraced it as an expression of devotion to the motherland. Yet Congress leaders chose to dilute its public rendition after objections that references to Hindu deities could be considered objectionable or exclusionary.

The present controversy has stripped away the pretence that this is merely about historical precedent. Rahul Gandhi was caught on a hot mic referring to the Congress rendition as “our version” of Vande Mataram. This is a breathtaking assumption. Vande Mataram is not Congress property, neither is it a Gandhi family possession. It is not a party anthem to be edited according to the sensitivities of its political managers. It belongs to the Indian people.

What exactly does “our version” mean? Is there a Congress Mother India distinct from the India to which millions of Indians owe their allegiance? The answer lies in the Congress’s larger political ecosystem that has repeatedly treated Hindu cultural expression as something to be negotiated, diluted or apologised for, while accommodating the most regressive forms of identity politics in the name of secularism.

The party, throughout its political history, has practiced appeasement dressed up as pluralism. The result has been a grotesque asymmetry where Hindu civilisational symbols were expected to become less Hindu so that nobody else would be offended, while Congress politicians cultivated constituencies through precisely the kind of communal calculations they publicly claimed to oppose.

The Vande Mataram controversy is not really about whether Congress sings two stanzas or six. It is about whether the oldest national party can finally shed the political reflex that made Hindu sentiment the easiest currency of compromise.

The Congress claims the legacy of the freedom struggle. It should remember that the freedom struggle was not fought to create a nation permanently apologetic about its own civilisation. India does not need Congress’s permission to love its motherland. And Vande Mataram certainly does not need Congress’s edited approval.