One day of unity; many days of hypocrisy

Callinga spade a spade has always been my habit. But for the first time in a long while, I felt compelled to appreciate the Leader of the Opposition for displaying a rare moment of political maturity. His call for a structured parliamentary discussion on Delhi’s pollution crisis—an issue ravaging the health of young and old alike—was refreshing. Even more commendable was his assertion that pollution is neither ideological nor partisan, and that both sides must unite to craft a national action plan.

The government’s response was equally constructive, agreeing to finalise the details of the debate in the Business Advisory Committee. It expressed readiness to participate meaningfully so that an effective strategy could emerge. This spirit of cooperation—so long missing from Parliament—is precisely what citizens expect from their elected representatives. People want solutions, not empty narratives about ‘vote chori’, nor endless displays of contempt for Sanatana Dharma, nor an overused politics of appeasement that no longer appeals to voters.

If the INDIA bloc truly wants to reinvent itself, this is the way forward: raise substantive issues, compel the government to articulate its position, and work jointly where the nation’s welfare is at stake. Only through collaboration—not confrontation—can Parliament regain its dignity. And only then can the Opposition hope to reconnect with voters and someday reclaim political relevance.

One only wishes that the same maturity had been shown during the recent debate on Vande Mataram instead of reducing it to a tool of appeasement politics. Vande Mataram is not a slogan; it is the national song that reminds us that Bharat Mata has given us language, culture, warmth, identity, and a home in her embrace. Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay’s composition is a poetic invocation of the nurturing mother who feeds, blesses, forgives, and shelters. It speaks of flowing waters, fertile fields, and cool breezes—an intimate portrait of the land that sustains us. It is, at its heart, a simple expression of gratitude: Thank you, Mother.

Yet, in today’s hyper-politicised climate, pseudo-secular politicians and even some retired bureaucrats claim to detect communal overtones in a song that is nothing but a heartfelt tribute to the motherland. Even the Shiv Sena (UBT)—a party that once prided itself on its Hindutva lineage tracing back to Bal Thackeray—has joined the chorus of critics. The same Opposition that claims the RSS never sang Vande Mataram now embraces the UBT faction with open arms. Their contradictions expose their growing frustration after losing election after election.

The DMK is another prominent player whose antagonism toward Sanatana Dharma has been on full display, particularly through its leaders’ arrogant pronouncements on national television. They speak as though they alone understand history. A simple glance at historical records, however, would remind them that the great Tamil poet Subramanya Bharathi not only translated Vande Mataram into Tamil twice—once in verse and later in a lyrical form—but also composed numerous songs based on it. The ideological posturing of the present-day DMK stands in stark contrast to the reverence shown by Bharathi and countless freedom fighters.

It is tragic that what once served as the battle cry of India’s independence movement now finds itself at the centre of a needless political storm. Prime Minister Narendra Modi accused Nehru and the Congress of surrendering to pressures from the Muslim League and presenting the nation with a truncated version of the song. The Opposition, meanwhile, framed the debate as an attack on Islam. This pseudo-secular reflex was most visible when Congress president and Leader of the Opposition in the Rajya Sabha, Mallikarjun Kharge, began his speech with Vande Mataram but swiftly switched to a combative tone, accusing the BJP’s ideological predecessors of “working for the British” while Congress leaders fought for freedom.

This brings us to the central question: Why does India officially sing only the first two stanzas of Vande Mataram? The answer lies in political compromise. Few nations bend over backwards to appease minority sentiments the way Indian leaders did. When Congress sought a national song, Vande Mataram was the obvious choice. But some Muslim leaders objected to perceived references to goddess worship. Nehru wrote to Subhash Chandra Bose claiming the song had been “manufactured by communalists.” Rabindranath Tagore, too, felt it might hurt Muslim sentiments. Consequently, the Congress Working Committee (CWC) decided only the first two stanzas—devoid of explicit divine imagery—would be sung.

Even this compromise satisfied no one fully. Gandhi took a middle path: outside Congress gatherings, he said, individuals should decide for themselves whether to sing the full song. He himself never viewed it as a Hindu song. Yet leaders like C. Rajagopalachari warned Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel that these concessions would not quell tensions. Still, he and Uttar Pradesh’s first Chief Minister G. B. Pant ultimately accepted the formula.

Why did this controversy arise in the first place? The roots go back to 1937 when the Muslim League suffered a humiliating electoral defeat—even in Muslim-majority regions. Much like today’s Opposition alleging ‘vote chori’, the League too searched for excuses and blamed the cultural milieu, including Vande Mataram, accusing it of invoking communal imagery.

Dr Rajendra Prasad, India’s first President, later declared that Vande Mataram should enjoy honour equal to Jana Gana Mana. Yet disputes continued: in the 1970s over its use in Mumbai municipal schools; in 1988 when Kerala schools defied government instructions; in Uttar Pradesh during Independence Day observances; and again in 2017 when the Madras High Court directed educational institutions to sing it once a week. The debate has been alive for decades.

Whether the present BJP government will attempt to restore deleted stanzas or allow the issue to simmer remains to be seen. But the deeper concern is the rising intolerance toward Hinduism and Sanatana Dharma among several INDIA bloc parties. Their appeasement politics is not winning votes; Muslims no longer vote en bloc. Yet they persist with the same failed strategies.

This trend is evident in the latest controversy involving Justice Swaminathan in the Madurai temple case. The judge permitted, with conditions, the lighting of a traditional lamp—a practice for which Hindus had even obtained a No-Objection Certificate from local Muslims. The objection came solely from the DMK government. Ironically, just a year earlier, the same judge had delivered a major ruling upholding a Sufi Muslim group’s right to observe Muharram with traditional drums and music. Then he was hailed as “secular”; today the government seeks his impeachment—despite a division bench upholding his decision. The hypocrisy is glaring.

It is high time political parties abandon this shallow, selective secularism. Defending the hijab while opposing the Hindu teeka, championing minority customs while deriding majority traditions—this is not secularism, but bigotry disguised as progressivism. India deserves better. A politics rooted in unity, fairness, and cultural honesty is the only way forward.

(The author is former Chief Editor of The Hans India)