One idea, many images – The Hindu

Kerala Governor Rajendra Vishwanath Arlekar’s obstinate use of contentious political iconography has shattered the veneer of harmony with the State government that marked his early months in office. Over the last fortnight, two Kerala Ministers have protested and boycotted official events held at the Raj Bhavan, taking strong exception to a garlanded portrait of Bharat Mata — Mother India — in front of a lion and holding a saffron flag against what appears to be a map of Akhand Bharat (undivided India). Leaders of the ruling Left Democratic Front decried the imagery, condemning it as a ploy to inject a Hindu nationalist agenda into the constitutional office of the Governor. Mr. Arlekar nonchalantly ascribed the idea to the spirit of nationalism and patriotism. The rift has since spilled over into the streets, leading to confrontations between workers of the Communist Party of India (Marxist) and the Bharatiya Janata Party across the State. The Mother India motif traces its origins to the late 19th century work, Anandamath, by Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay, which personified the country as an oppressed Hindu goddess with a glorious past aspiring to regain her enormous might. It featured ‘Vande Mataram’, which became hugely popular and accepted as India’s national song. With the nationalist movement taking shape, the image found countless iterations across forms of cultural and political expression. In the early 20th century, artist Abanindranath Tagore depicted Bharat Mata as a four-armed goddess holding a piece of white cloth, sheaves of paddy, a book and a string of beads. While Anandamath came under criticism for its perceived communal undertones, with the image being appropriated by Hindu religious nationalists, Abanindranath’s image was seen as a ‘humanisation’ of the divine mother. If painter Amrita Shergill poignantly pictured Mother India as a pining mother staring into an uncertain future, political and cultural portrayals of Mother India relied on the metaphor of a woman who was a divine, benevolent custodian of customs and traditions, with the imagery drawing heavily from Hindu iconography. Her flag changed between the tricolour and saffron, depending on who portrayed the image. Calendar art pinned up many iterations in drawing rooms. While films such as Mother India cemented the stereotype, Satyajit Ray’s Devi called out the deification of women as a patriarchal tool of subjugation.

But religious nationalists continued to weaponise the symbolism, imaginatively blending the visual of a decked-up Hindu goddess with a united Hindu Rashtra. Secularists such as M.F. Husain, too, were drawn to the idea of the nation as a woman and it got deeply etched in the collective psyche of the people. Given the lack of a standard depiction of the metaphor of Mother India, the present controversy was avoidable. Governors would do well to desist from employing a Hindu majoritarian version of a multilayered iconic image for political expediency.