As conflicts flare across different parts of the world and nations rally around their flags, citizens often find themselves holding tighter to symbols of national pride. But what do these symbols truly represent, and how did they come to define a nation’s imagination? These questions formed the core of a thought-provoking conversation between TM Krishna and historian AR Venkatachalapathy at the launch of Krishna’s latest book ‘We, the People of India: Decoding a Nation’s Symbols’ (Rs 899, Westland Books) at The Music Academy on Tuesday evening.
Krishna’s book revisits the histories and debates behind India’s national symbols — the national flag, anthem, emblem, motto, and Preamble. These symbols, which emerged during the years surrounding Independence, were not merely administrative choices but the outcome of debates among leaders, thinkers, and members of the Constituent Assembly about how a newly independent nation should represent itself.
Through archival research and historical inquiry, Krishna examines how these markers of nationhood evolved and how they continue to shape conversations about citizenship, democracy, and identity in contemporary India. In doing so, the book seeks to understand how symbols can embody a nation’s aspirations while also reflecting its contradictions.
Opening the conversation, Venkatachalapathy highlighted the extensive research behind the book. “The book is based on a really rich body of archival work,” he noted, adding that Krishna had drawn from a wide range of historical sources to trace how India’s national symbols were conceived, debated, and eventually adopted.
Reflecting on the origins of the project, Krishna said the idea took shape gradually, triggered both by personal curiosity and contemporary political developments. “There were two or three triggers for writing this book. One was the song Jana Gana Mana, not just the anthem bit, but the song itself. For various reasons, I looked at the full song and I started singing the other verses of the song…and started wondering what my relationship with this song was,” he said, explaining how revisiting the composition as a musician prompted deeper questions about the meaning of national symbols.
He added that the climate of the present moment also pushed him to explore the subject more deeply. “The first time I saw Jana Gana Mana as a song, I started reading the second verse — which to me, should have been part of the anthem. It is in the context that you placed it, where we see violence every day. We see hate every day. We see these symbols themselves being weaponised,” he said, suggesting that the increasing invocation of national symbols in public discourse made it important to revisit their historical origins and meanings.
The research process, he said, revealed surprising gaps in the historical record. “At least for Vande Mataram, Jana Gana Mana, and the flag, there have been some historical materials, scholastic materials. In the case of, for example, the emblem and the motto, there was no material. Nobody had written about it. Nobody even knew how it was chosen,” he said, noting that archival work became essential in reconstructing the story behind these decisions.
The book also revisits widely held assumptions about the origins of the Indian national flag. “If you simply Google Pingali Venkayya, it will say that he designed the Indian flag. I am going to very confidently say he did not,” Krishna remarked. While Venkayya was among the earliest advocates for a national flag, Krishna explained that the final design evolved through discussions within the national movement, particularly under the influence of Mahatma Gandhi.
The discussion also explored how songs and music intersect with history and politics. Speaking about Vande Mataram, Krishna said the song’s musical and poetic structure reveals shifts in tone and meaning. “Vande Mataram is a fascinating song. Jana Gana Mana is a brilliant song. Everything about it, constructionally, poetically, is just brilliant. But Vande Mataram is a tricky song because it was not written in one shot,” he observed, explaining that examining the song through both historical and musical lenses can reveal layers that are often overlooked.
The conversation also turned to the complexities of figures who shaped India’s intellectual and political life. “The most difficult to handle (to write about in the book) is Gandhi. The debate on Gandhi and Ambedkar comes in terms of dharma and caste and social equality. It was very complicated to understand what was going on in this land,” Krishna said, referring to the ideological tensions in Gandhi’s writings and actions, particularly on questions of caste and social equality.
Beyond historical interpretation, the discussion raised broader questions about how citizens engage with national symbols today. Krishna argued that people often relate to these symbols through regulation rather than emotional connection. “I don’t think any of us have really been allowed to have an emotional relationship with these symbols. What we have instead is a subservient relationship,” he said.
Talking to CE after the event, Krishna said the book ultimately invites readers to rethink the idea of India itself. “The message of the book is for us to rethink India as it is today. We are seeing an India of violence and chest-beating, an India that says we are greater than the world. That is not the India we want to build,” he said.
Reflecting on how such symbols might better reflect India’s diversity, the author suggested that they should invite participation rather than obedience. “We should have allowed the anthem to be sung in every regional language while keeping the same tune,” he said, adding that such an approach could have been a meaningful expression of India’s linguistic and cultural plurality.