From 'Vande Mataram' to 'Dimagi Naxal': The BJP's Political Tests Have Nothing to Do With Actual Patriotism
Two controversies dominated this Independence Day. The first was over 'Vande Mataram'. The second was over Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s use of the phrase “Dimagi Naxal”. They may appear unrelated, but they point to the same larger question: how far can political disagreement be turned into a test of patriotism and loyalty?
The 'Vande Mataram' controversy began with a BJP claim that Sonia Gandhi tried to stop the song while it was being sung at the Congress headquarters. Congress said she was asking for a chair for Mallikarjun Kharge, who had been standing for some time. The Congress went on to sing the complete six-stanza version. The BJP nevertheless interpreted Gandhi’s gesture as evidence of disrespect. The controversy has now moved to a more consequential stage.
The Congress Working Committee has decided that the party will sing only the first two stanzas of 'Vande Mataram' at its events, reaffirming a position adopted by the Congress in 1937. The BJP has strongly objected. Amit Shah has called the decision “anti-national”, while accusing the party of appeasement. Other BJP leaders have accused Congress of insulting the national song. Meanwhile, Congress president Mallikarjun Kharge hit back, saying it is the version decided by India’s national leaders, including Mahatma Gandhi, Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel.
This is no longer simply a dispute about the history of 'Vande Mataram'. It is about who gets to decide what constitutes sufficient respect for a national symbol. In January, the Union government issued guidelines prescribing the full six-stanza version for specified official functions. The later stanzas contain religious imagery. That was one reason the shorter version had historically been used in public and national gatherings. The Congress's 1937 decision was itself an attempt to address the objections surrounding those later verses.
The BJP is now changing the political context in which the song is performed. Singing all six stanzas is increasingly being presented not merely as adherence to a new official protocol but as evidence of patriotism. The Congress decision to sing only two stanzas is therefore being presented as evidence of something more serious than a difference over historical practice.
Also read: What the Vande Mataram is to the Congress – and What Congress is to Vande Mataram
That raises an important question. If a political party follows a practice that was adopted by the Congress before Independence and retained for decades, when did continuing that practice become evidence of inadequate patriotism? Can a political decision about how much of a national song to sing legitimately become a test of one's loyalty to the nation?
The Sonia Gandhi episode makes the question even more troubling. A gesture whose meaning remains disputed was first presented by the BJP as an attempt to stop the national song. Congress offered a different explanation. The song was, nevertheless, sung in full. Yet, the gesture became the basis for a political accusation. Now, with Congress formally deciding to sing only two stanzas, the same political logic has acquired a more permanent form. An ambiguous gesture can be interpreted as disrespect. A decision to sing two stanzas can be described as “anti-national”. The boundary between disagreement with a particular practice and disloyalty to the nation begins to disappear.
This brings us to the second controversy. In his Independence Day address from the Red Fort, Modi said armed Naxalism had nearly been eliminated. He then warned about what he called “Dimagi Naxals” – people with a ‘Naxal’ mindset. He said they had entrenched themselves in the corridors of power, including as advisers on government committees, and that they needed to be identified and isolated. He did not name individuals or organisations. Union minister Kiren Rijiju later said the prime minister was not referring to opposition leaders.
However, the phrase has to be viewed in the context of the BJP's earlier use of the term “Urban Naxal”. The party has, for several years, used it against critics, activists and political opponents. In 2022, minister of state for home Nityanand Rai told the Rajya Sabha that the government does not officially use the phrase “Urban Naxals”. Yet, BJP leaders have continued to use it in public. In February this year, BJP president Nitin Nabin called Congress an “urban Naxal hub”. Congress has now responded to “Dimagi Naxal” by pointing to this history.
The problem with “Dimagi Naxal” is not that extremism should be ignored. It is a legitimate subject of concern. The problem is that the term has no clear definition. An armed Naxal can be identified through evidence: weapons, violence or membership in an armed group. An ideological category is different. Without clear boundaries, it can include a critic of government policy, an academic who studies Naxalism, an activist working on tribal rights, as well as someone who genuinely supports political violence. Once the category becomes this broad, the question is no longer what a person has done or advocated. It becomes who has the authority to label that person.
This is where the two controversies meet. A gesture during a national song can be interpreted as disrespect. Choosing to sing only two stanzas can be described as anti-national. A person with an undefined “Naxal mindset” can be told that he or she needs to be identified and isolated.
The danger is not that every such accusation will necessarily be false. Some people may genuinely oppose the constitutional order or support political violence. The problem is what happens when the language used to identify them is so broad that legitimate political disagreement can be placed alongside extremism. A democracy does not require citizens or political parties to agree with the government. It requires them to follow the law and respect the constitutional order. Disagreement with government policy is not disloyalty. Criticism of the government's approach to internal security is not sympathy for violence. And choosing to follow a historically established version of a national song does not, by itself, establish a person's commitment or lack of commitment to the nation.
The larger issue, therefore, is not whether Sonia Gandhi respects 'Vande Mataram', or whether the government is right to worry about ideological support for extremism. It is whether political power should have the authority to define patriotism so broadly that disagreement itself becomes evidence of disloyalty.
This is particularly important because the two controversies have begun to overlap in political discourse. A person who questions the full rendition of 'Vande Mataram' can be accused of disrespecting the nation. A person who questions the government's approach to Naxalism can be accused of having a Naxal mindset. Once these categories are allowed to expand, there is little left between political disagreement and political suspicion. Patriotism should not work that way. A national song can be honoured without making the number of stanzas someone sings a measure of their loyalty.
The fight against armed extremism can be pursued without turning an undefined ideological label into a weapon against critics. When patriotism becomes a political test, the test can keep changing. A gesture becomes evidence. A song becomes proof of loyalty. Disagreement becomes evidence of extremism. A label replaces evidence.
The real question is not which party is more patriotic. It is whether patriotism should be treated as a political test at all.
John J. Kennedy is an educator, columnist and political analyst.
This article went live on August twenty-fourth, two thousand twenty six, at forty-eight minutes past six in the evening.The Wire is now on WhatsApp. Follow our channel for sharp analysis and opinions on the latest developments.





