The recent controversy over the display of the image of Bharat Mata at a World Environment Day function in Kerala is not merely a protocol dispute. It underscores a more significant concern: The politicisation of national symbols and the reluctance of certain sections to accept the cultural underpinnings of Indian identity.
Since assuming office, Kerala Governor Rajendra Vishwanath Arlekar has followed a dignified ceremonial protocol for events held in the Raj Bhavan’s main hall. The model is simple yet symbolically profound: Inaugurations commence with the lighting of the traditional lamp (nilavilakku) followed by a floral tribute to Bharat Mata, and the National Anthem — both at the beginning and end of the event.
This is not a partisan innovation but a reflection of the governor’s reverence for Indian tradition and national unity. Many events have followed this ceremonial structure without incident — until the recent World Environment Day celebration, when a state government function hosted at the Raj Bhavan became a flash point.
The controversy unfolded after the agriculture department raised concerns about the nilavilakku and an image of Bharat Mata included in the minute-by-minute schedule shared by Raj Bhavan on the eve of the event. The department requested that the traditional lamp and the image be removed.
Later, they clarified that the lamp was not an issue, but the image of Bharat Mata was unacceptable — the reason cited was that the image was one used by the RSS. It was then suggested that if that particular image was problematic, an alternative depiction of Bharat Mata holding the national flag could be used instead. However, the response from the department was that no image of Bharat Mata should be used at all.
Further, to ensure inclusivity, Raj Bhavan made it clear that offering floral tributes was voluntary, and those uncomfortable could simply opt out. Despite this accommodative approach, the agriculture minister chose to politicise the issue.
On the morning of the event, the state government suddenly informed Raj Bhavan that, “as per protocol”, floral tributes could not be allowed and the event was called off.
This sudden protocol-based objection raises serious questions: Is there any real protocol that prohibits floral tributes to national symbols? Has lighting a traditional lamp now become a violation of secular norms? Is refusing to participate in such ceremonies — symbols of harmony — not a breach of expected public decorum? Most importantly, how is a floral tribute to Bharat Mata unconstitutional? If shouting “Bharat Mata ki jai” is acceptable at the end of the National Anthem — as is often the case — what then is the problem with placing a flower before her image?
Governor Arlekar responded with poignant clarity: “For me, Bharat Mata is above even my own mother. That is why I do not wish to make her a matter of debate.”
He emphasised that Bharat Mata is not a symbol of any one party or ideology but a national ideal — transcending political, regional, and religious boundaries. Even those who may never have visualized her image in full earnest still chant “Bharat Mata ki jai” in moments of patriotic pride. That chant, he noted, is unifying — not divisive.
Yet, some seem determined to keep the controversy alive, with whispered suggestions that the governor–government relationship has broken down, and doubts were raised even about the future of oath-taking ceremonies. Ironically, many raising these questions are unaware that lighting a lamp has never been part of such swearing-in rituals.
The concept of Bharat Mata predates modern political organisations, including the RSS. During the freedom struggle it was a powerful embodiment of the nation — its land, its people, and its spirit. This idea did not emerge from the agenda of any one organisation. Rather, it was a cultural and spiritual vision that helped shape modern India. The slogan “Vande Mataram” captured this sentiment, and countless freedom fighters embraced it — from Bankim Chandra Chatterjee to Subhas Chandra Bose and Mahatma Gandhi.
To reduce Bharat Mata to a political image because she’s depicted with a lion or a saffron flag is to ignore her spiritual and civilisational depth. Just as France has Marianne and Greece had Athena, India has Bharat Mata — a symbol not of domination, but of devotion.
Labeling the iconography of Bharat Mata as communal is a dangerous precedent. Will we next scrutinise the tricolour based on who holds it? Will the singing of Vande Mataram be banned at state events for its association with nationalist fervour? This is not secularism. It is suppression masquera-ding as neutrality — a denial of India’s cultural heritage.
Governor Arlekar’s stand was not about pushing a party line; it was a respectful affirmation of India’s civilisational ethos. The state government’s decision to cancel the event instead of finding a consensus reveals an unwillingness to accommodate the cultural expressions of nationalism. Such rigidity is not inclusive — it is exclusionary.
In a democracy, ideological differences are inevitable. But when the very idea of Bharat Mata becomes a source of discomfort, we must reflect not on protocol — but on our priorities.
(The author is additional private secretary to governor)