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By:

Bhalchandra Chorghade

11 August 2025 at 1:54:18 pm

Colour of Victory Should Never Need a Political Palette

For nearly a century, Indian hockey, or for that matter any team representing the country, has been synonymous with one colour, ok blue. It is the shade that witnessed eight Olympic gold medals, the artistry of Dhyan Chand, the revival under Harmanpreet Singh, ICC ODI and T20 World Cups, and countless moments when the tricolour rose above the podium. The jersey was never merely a piece of fabric; it became part of India’s sporting identity. Now, Hockey India’s decision to replace the...

Colour of Victory Should Never Need a Political Palette

For nearly a century, Indian hockey, or for that matter any team representing the country, has been synonymous with one colour, ok blue. It is the shade that witnessed eight Olympic gold medals, the artistry of Dhyan Chand, the revival under Harmanpreet Singh, ICC ODI and T20 World Cups, and countless moments when the tricolour rose above the podium. The jersey was never merely a piece of fabric; it became part of India’s sporting identity. Now, Hockey India’s decision to replace the traditional blue with saffron for the away kit has triggered a debate far larger than sport. Is this simply a marketing exercise? A harmless aesthetic choice? Or another step towards painting every national institution in the colours of the ruling political narrative? The answer perhaps lies not in the jersey itself, but in the context. No one disputes saffron’s place in India’s history. It is one of the colours of the national flag and symbolises courage and sacrifice. Equally, blue carries deep civilisational and constitutional significance—from Lord Krishna to Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, and from the Ashoka Chakra at the centre of the Tiranga to the identity Indian sport has built over decades. The irony is striking. For years, administrators proudly marketed India’s teams as the “Men in Blue” and “Women in Blue.” The colour transcended cricket and became the common sporting identity across disciplines. Today, without any compelling sporting necessity, that identity appears expendable. Supporters argue that many countries use alternate jerseys. Indeed, they do. Australia wears green and gold. Brazil alternates between yellow and blue. Football clubs routinely unveil fresh designs every season. But there is a difference between refreshing a brand and redefining a national sporting identity. When symbolism repeatedly moves in only one ideological direction, questions become inevitable. Perhaps the next logical step would be renaming the blue astroturf into saffron turf as well. After all, consistency is important. Sarcasm aside, sport derives its greatest strength from its ability to unite people beyond politics. Fans cheer goals not governments. They celebrate drag flicks not ideological colour charts. An Indian victory over Pakistan or Australia has never depended on whether the players wore blue, white or orange. It depended on skill, preparation and character. The danger lies in normalising symbolic interventions that appear unnecessary. One isolated decision may be dismissed as coincidence. But when institutions across sectors—from textbooks to public spaces, from cultural bodies to sporting symbols—begin reflecting similar aesthetic choices, citizens are entitled to ask whether coincidence has quietly become policy. This is not an argument against saffron. It is an argument against selective symbolism. India’s greatest strength has always been its pluralism. The Tiranga itself does not privilege one colour over another. Saffron stands with white and green, held together by the blue Ashoka Chakra. Remove the balance and the flag loses its meaning. Ironically, the colour being sidelined is the one sitting at the heart of the national flag. Administrators would do well to remember that sporting institutions inherit traditions; they do not merely manage brands. Jerseys evoke memories that marketing campaigns cannot manufacture. The blue shirt reminds millions of Olympic triumphs, Asian Games glory and generations of hockey lovers who never asked what ideology their team’s colour represented. Sport should remain one of the few arenas where citizens see only India—not competing political shades of India. If Hockey India genuinely wishes to modernise the sport, there are more pressing priorities than changing colours. Better domestic leagues, stronger grassroots programmes, improved infrastructure and higher player welfare would generate far more excitement than a redesigned jersey. Winning medals, laurels and titles changes history. Changing colours merely changes wardrobes.

Indian Shipbuilding A Must Win Marathon

Shipbuilding

With a coastline of 7500 KM, it is hard to imagine, that for the first 20 years (1947-1967) India had no ‘shipping ministry’. In 1967 a Shipping ministry “coupled” with ROAD transport was established. Since then, this ministry has been on a name changing ride, not once, not twice but six times. In 2009 the “ROAD Transport and Highways” was de-coupled and ‘Shipping’ ministry was formed. Turning point came in 2015 with a clear maritime vision for 2030 and 2047. Ministry was re-christened, aptly to Ministry of “Ports, Shipping and Waterways” in 2020.


Why is Shipbuilding important for a country?

a. A Shipyard becomes an opportunity hub and like a queen bee requires the support of an industrial colony to manufacture machinery and equipment.

b. National Shipyards support fleet renewal needs of the Navy.

c. Contributes to national GDP, increases inflow of FOREX.


Korea shipbuilding is 8% of GDP. Japan’s automobile industry is 2.9% of GDP. India’s shipbuilding a meagre 0.000578% of GDP. In context, India’s pharmaceutical industry, ranked third largest in the world is 1.72% of India’s GDP.


International Shipbuilding Market

The market is estimated to reach around USD 200 billion by 2029, growing at a CAGR of 4.84%. While India is at bottom with 0.07% of world share, behind Philippines 1.5% and Vietnam 1%, however on the positive side, India has done well in taking care of its defence needs, with 37 of 39 Naval ships being built in India yards. Rear Admiral S Shrikhande researching on maritime as a Fellow at Wollongong University, Australia, says “Shipbuilding in India needs both, serious incentivisation and dogged determination and not harping on being a big ship breaking country. That Garden Reach shipyard has a $54 million order for merchant ships from a German owner, is a good sign.”


Were Shipyards of 20th century in Flight mode?

Prominent shipyards in India were built in the colonial period. Mazagon Dock 1774, Garden reach 1884, Hindustan shipyard 1941 to cater to British navy and merchant fleet needs. Cochin shipyard 1972, Adani Katupalli 2013, Reliance Naval and Engineering, Rajula Gujarat 1997 and others have limited capacity, hence a lot more work to do. Capt. Subhangshu Dutt (Singapore) a mariner and now a shipowner, says “GOI should hold hands in any collaboration till the marriage with the foreign entity is reasonably stable. He also suggests that “new shipbuilding sites should be given to existing successful shipyards since they have decades of experience and talent. Consortium of 3 or more parties may also be good idea”.


Shipbuilding GOLD

As per SPLASH report the demand for LCO2 carriers could reach 2,500 ships by 2050. As per other estimates, 40% of global fleet of ships could have wind propulsion by 2050. A surge in such vessels is due to an unparallel waves of decarbonization in the shipping industry. Demand for ships with ‘carbon neutral’ badges, such as Dual fuel, Wind assisted, Nuclear fuel ships, Hydrogen powered ships, Liquified CO2 (LCO2) carrier, is outstripping supply. A must in the ‘bucket list’ of every Shipyard. Pinning down a standard ROI in shipbuilding is not easy, but experts suggest it could range from 4% to 15% for the high demand ‘carbon neutral’ ships. While an LNG new build vessel could cost US$ 250 million upwards.


International collaboration

On China’s shipbuilding success story, Manoj Pandalanghat (Singapore) a mariner and ship owner believes that “China has around 50 active Shipyards. Each have a few large dry docks. In each dock two or more large vessels are built simultaneously. Thus, a single yard is able to roll out 2/3 vessels/month, 36 vessels/year and 50 shipyards roll out 1800 vessels/year”.


China could be a jaldi-5, but India needs a sturdy Mount Fiji. Besides technology, Japanese bring the most important hand baggage of soft-skills and culture, essential for success from keel laying to delivery. Maruti’s is a standing example.


Food for thought for New Delhi

a. Expertise: Hire Naval Architects and shipbuilding experts with current international experience.

b. Government assistance: Land, Financial support, subsidies and timebound clearances.

c. Monitoring: PMO should monitor the first 5 to 10 years till Shipbuilding takes-off on this long-haul flight to destination 2047.


India’s Shipbuilding is expected to grow to $237 billion by year 2047. On a back of the envelope calculations this works out to about 4% of India’s 2047 projected GDP of $ 5 trillion. While cars are driven on roads, however the Ministry of roads and transport has little to do with “Automobile manufacturing”. On a similar note, ‘Shipbuilding’ as an industry has little to do with Ports, Shipping and Waterways, thus it may be worthwhile to consider a separate ‘Ship-building’ wing in the Ministry of Ports, Shipping and Waterways headed by a dynamic cabinet rank minister. Since 2047 targets are stiff and an uphill task, so in all probabilities, the officials in Ministry of Ports, Shipping and Waterways are likely to push beneath the carpet, delays and failures of Shipbuilding with sweet success stories of “Ports, Shipping and Waterways” and if this does happen then India will not only miss the Shipbuilding bus of 21st century but a lot more from a national security and strategic perspective.


(The author is a Shipping and Marine consultant. Member Singapore Shipping Association and empaneled with IMO as a specialist consultant. Views personal.)

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