Native Push

India’s bid to showcase indigenous sports at the 2030 Commonwealth Games is a welcome strategic assertion of our culture, soft power and sporting depth. In the often-transactional world of global sport where disciplines are dependent on television rights and commercial appeal, the government’s move is refreshingly civilisational. The decision, articulated by Sports Minister Mansukh Mandaviya, to include two indigenous sports at the 2030 Commonwealth Games in Ahmedabad signals an ambition that extends beyond medals.

The shortlist of kabaddi, mallakhamb, kho-kho and yoga is akin to a catalogue of India’s physical culture. Each carry within it a distinct philosophy of movement, be it kabaddi’s breath-bound bursts of aggression, kho-kho’s rhythmic evasion, mallakhamb’s gravity-defying strength or yoga’s meditative control. To elevate even two of these to the Commonwealth stage is to offer the world a different and indigenous idiom of athleticism.

The pared-down Glasgow edition, featuring only ten disciplines, had exposed the fragility of the event’s scale and appeal. By contrast, Ahmedabad 2030 is being envisioned as a fuller, 17-sport spectacle, with the assured return of cricket and hockey - sports that carry both mass appeal and geopolitical heft. Within this expanded canvas, the inclusion of indigenous games is a strategic recalibration.

For India, it addresses a long-standing asymmetry in global sport. Western-origin disciplines have historically dominated international platforms. By inserting our own games into the programme, India is offering a reminder that universality in sport has often been a curated phenomenon.

Schemes such as Khelo India have already sought to broaden the base of athletic participation, reportedly engaging tens of thousands of athletes across states and Union territories. The global projection of indigenous sports provides these efforts with a narrative arc: what begins in schoolyards and district tournaments can, in time, culminate on an international stage.

There is also a question of economics. Indigenous sports are, by design, frugal. They demand little in the way of specialised equipment or elaborate arenas. In a country where sporting infrastructure remains uneven, if even a fraction of the attention generated by the Commonwealth Games translates into grassroots participation, the returns in terms of public health, talent identification and social cohesion could be considerable.

Will audiences in distant Commonwealth nations warm to games they scarcely recognise? Perhaps not immediately. But then, neither did sports such as rugby sevens or T20 cricket enjoy instant universality. The Commonwealth platform is precisely the incubator these indigenous games require.

More broadly, the initiative fits into India’s evolving soft-power strategy. From cuisine to cinema, the country has become more assertive in exporting its cultural capital. Sport, curiously, has lagged behind. The Ahmedabad Games offer an opportunity to correct that imbalance.

The success of this endeavour will depend on presentation, standardisation of rules, and the ability to translate local passion into a format intelligible to international audiences. If done well, it could set a precedent for future multi-sport events.