You say you looked for answers to imperfections in our democracy in the tangibles of the nation’s symbols. Did you get the answers you were looking for?

The starting point for me was what does democracy mean for us in this country. Every day seems to be some kind of an attack on some fundamental principles of the idea of democracy, and beyond that, of humanity and coexistence. It’s not just about having a political opinion; the words, tone, arrogance and the vulgarity with which attacks are thrown at each other are beyond insensitive. One wonders what has happened to us, and that’s where this book begins. I write this book as a citizen and not as a historian, which I am not.

These symbols encompass what we would call fundamental democratic principles, and so that’s what I actually started investigating. And my one fundamental feeling was that it is sad we have forgotten to accept differing points of view. If you read the book, disagreements were never a problem in the early years of our nation. People like Tagore and Gandhi or Ambedkar and Gandhi had several arguments over several issues, but there was integrity of purpose and honesty of thought and capacity to listen. That is something we have entirely forgotten.

I think we are a miracle in many ways if you think of all the countries that got independence in the early 20th century. Look at their trajectory and look at ours. And the miracle is because of the intention of every member of the Constituent Assembly who came together and worked hard to build what we gave ourselves. But somewhere that purpose is just lost and that should sadden us.

What does the book convey to readers?

I never knew there’s so much material on each of the symbols, much of it unknown to the public. I filed RTI applications, dug through national archives, contacted the British Library, historians the world over. One would think some pillar or a flag or Satyamev Jayate are just symbols and do they even matter. What’s the big deal and how does it change my life?But it was exhilarating to see how invested people were in the making of this country, and the extent to which they were willing to think about something and change things. This to me is the greatest takeaway of the book.

‘We the people’ is an extremely powerful phrase. However, it is this very notion of ‘we’ that is under question today, both politically and in civic society. What do you say about that?

The biggest issue is the notion of who belongs and who doesn’t. Are you looking at some kind of sociological genealogy or genetic genealogy of this fatherland or motherland? That’s the fundamental flaw in why we are struggling. Does everybody on this map that we call India feel the same level of belonging? Does an upper caste feel more belonging because they are more confident than compared to say a Dalit person. Or a man versus a woman? Does a person living in Nagaland feel as strongly about the ‘we’, does a Kashmiri? I think we failed there in making that comfort of belonging equally available to everyone. And, that needs to be addressed.

On the flip side, it is also the faith in this ‘we’ that is keeping us together as a nation. In that case, when you write that “we do not know what it means to be Indian without reference to religion”, it becomes a partial truth?

The reason I’m making that statement is because even today you can stoke it to ignite unrest. This is again our failure that we have not built an environment in our public life where we can say your faith is something you do, but what is the other thing that binds us to be Indian. It’s also important to reiterate that we may be civilisationally thousands of years old, but India as a nation was born only in 1947. Earlier there were multiple civilisations, dynasties, invaders and colonisers, but the idea of India was born in 1947 and crystallised in 1950.

So the discourse that we were even greater centuries ago is misplaced. We as a nation are a creation of the 20th century, and that doesn’t make us lesser in any manner.

The book details how Jana Gana Mana emerged from an obscure corner to trump Vande Mataram in becoming the national anthem. But Vande Mataram seems to be the discourse today…

Yes, we are in the age of Vande Mataram as it was in Anandamath, to be more specific. The first stanza of Vande Mataram is gorgeous, but beyond that the entire song is part and parcel of a narrative in Anandamath, and that is not a narrative we want for India. But it is worrisome that we are going closer to that kind of a resonance because we are living in an age where somebody can hit a person on the street for what, carrying beef or something, video it himself and put it on social media and actually be applauded for it. So if these are the times we live in, I don’t hear Jana Gana Mana in that unfortunately.

Towards the end of the book you call for dignity of the individual away from identity seeking. Is that even possible?

It’s a philosophical question as well as a structural one. A Constitution is a structural mechanism we are trying to implement into societal action. So, I think it is possible.At a philosophical level, it’s important that we shift our focus and say you have to find a way to respect and give dignity to everybody, irrespective of gender, caste, origin, etc. This is where Jana Gana Mana is important, as it encapsulates the individual and the collective. That’s the brilliance of the song. It’s the manas of the Jana and the Gana. So if you can use that phraseology that Tagore has gifted us, then it’s possible.

The tougher question is, how is it structurally possible? For that, I think it has to go back to one fundamental thing, which is education, our schools. Because, even our schools operate on the basis of community identity. And that has to change. Every child has to be seen as an individual, deserving of equal dignity, irrespective of caste, economic background or gender. If that happens, every individual feels safe. If you don’t feel safe, how will you be free? It is very hard to change, but cultural transformations always are. These changes can’t happen in the Parliament, or at a bureaucratic level. We have to change at the individual level.

How important is it for artists to raise their voice, as it is something very pronounced today, where we see art taking up issues like war, displacement, sustainability, democracy, rights, climate? And, how successful do you think you are?

Honestly, it’s very hard. You do something. It is possible it changes something radically, or sparks a momentary reaction, or is even ignored. You wonder if you are making a difference, but it is also very hard to quantify this difference. So all you can do is just keep pushing. Sometimes you inspire someone, even if a few. And at that moment, it feels worth it. Are a million people going to change? No. But sometimes many small things, cumulatively, they matter. They have to matter. Otherwise we won’t be doing the things we do in our lives, right?

We, the People of India: Decoding a Nation’s Symbols
TM Krishna
Context
Pp 480, Rs 899