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EVERY year, around Republic Day, a debate tends to surface in some, sometimes crucial, places on the need for the pomp and circumstance of the Republic Day parade. To many living in Delhi that debate becomes particularly relevant because they are almost inevitably caught up in one of the several traffic tangles that the rehearsals of the parade cause. But to a good many across the country the question is no less relevant. Do we need the grandness of the parade to be a kind of metaphor of our patriotism?
It is not so much a question of expenditure - though that is not inconsiderable - as a larger question of the event itself. Would it not do to have, say, a kind of festival that could be organised in a large stadium, and moved every year from one State to another? Or, better still, could we not have such gatherings where a large number of people can have a pleasant day among a number of festive events in every State? After all, the country has its own tradition of melas and other expressions of collective festivity; why not have one such for the anniversary of the republic?
The arguments in favour of this manner of observing Republic Day are very persuasive. Melas do not intrude on the day-to-day business of millions in our cities; there is, in their very nature, an element of spontaneity that can be quite enchanting and memorable; and they express just the kind of gaiety and joy that we would like to associate with that day. Additionally, it would bring in a large number of people from the rural areas, and smaller melas can be organised in every district, which would take the anniversary of our republic to every corner of the country.
What we now have, the argument continues, is an event whose origins are foreign, and that is something that is associated with totalitarian regimes. The tanks and missiles and guns and the marching soldiers are an assertion that is not meant really for the citizens of the country but satisfy some state urge to glorify itself. And the way it is organised now, the interest really is in the display of military might and the flypast of fighter aircraft of the Indian Air Force, not in the `floats' and the groups of folk dancers or the schoolchildren performing almost on the run.
These arguments cannot be dismissed altogether. The parade does need to be looked at and its nature considered carefully in the larger context of the observance of the anniversary of the republic in a manner that expresses the sense of exhilaration, if one can use the word, and confidence that the day brings to all those who understand what it signifies. That number is very large, but, sadly, not all Indians understand or feel the need to share those feelings. Deprivation and poverty bring in their wake a sense of weary indifference to anything else.
In this world, when the media carry out surveys on so many aspects of our collective life, there has not yet been one that has sought out our poor and deprived and asked them what they feel about the republic and its anniversary. There may be a certain amount of guilt involved in this averting of the media gaze, since mediapersons, all of them, belong to the salaried classes, and many of them are among the more affluent. To them, as to most of us, the day means the closing of schools and offices, of children marching to patriotic songs, of afternoon visits to the zoo or some park. We are not, on that day, worried about or trying to earn something to keep body and soul together.
Having said all this, we have to consider whether we are not being carried to a point where we, or some of us, would declare that there should be no observance of the day at all. Or mark it with a homily by the political leader of the day and then go home with a clutch of national flags. Some days need to be observed and the manner needs to be one that makes it something we remember for the time; it is not enough to spend the day in idleness, irrespective of whether we are rich or poor.
The argument for a mela may well be persuasive, but it is not enough. Somewhere we need one day on which we assert, together, that we are Indian, and that we are a free country, that we are confident of our freedom. It is true that totalitarian states had more or less co-opted parades as typically theirs; but that by itself cannot be an argument to consider the removal of our own. The argument that someone not-so-desirable does something does not make the act itself undesirable.
And it is necessary for us to declare with a measure of confidence that, yes, we do have a parade in which we showcase our armed forces. The argument that we are exhibiting our military might to impress others in the neighbourhood, apart from creating awe among our fellow citizens is laughable. Two or three tanks and one set of radar equipment, some marching soldiers and six or seven fighter aircraft can hardly be said to be indicative of India's military might.
What these do is create a sense of confidence and exhilaration in the splendid turnout, the precision marching and the sheer pageantry of the whole affair. For that time the event becomes a focal point in the country - made even more so by television and radio - as do the parades held in the States, and even in the districts. This is not jingoism; it is truly an affirmation of faith in ourselves as a collective entity, which is something that we tend to take for granted, but which is, if we think about it, a pretty astonishing fact.
We do have many many citizens who are too poor to take much interest in this event. But that is just why it needs to be held. The endeavour too has to be brought into sharp focus, the enormity of the task that we have to confront to make the day truly universal. Self-flagellation will not help. Millions take such delight in the spirit of the day; and that spirit is captured and expressed in the parade, in New Delhi and all over the country. With it there must be a dedication to making the country a place of delight for all, eventually.
There is another point that we need to make, as others have made elsewhere. If we do present to the nation units of the armed and paramilitary forces marching down Rajpath or a major avenue in State capitals, it is the least we can do for those who have served the country well, and continue to do so. There is no other occasion when they are remembered so memorably; and, consequently, the parade is not only a bit of pageantry but a conscious act of remembrance as well, of the forces that have all these years kept the country secure. If, in the afternoon on Republic Day, families and groups that seek out pleasant diversions recall the marching troops and their turnout, and the aircraft that flew overhead, that recall would have served a major objective of the parade, and the great effort made to organise it. It would, in a real sense, be an act of faith in those men and women. We owe at least that to them.
But, yes, the nature of the parade does need to be looked at once again. It needs to be looked at every year - since it is an affirmation of collective faith - to make sure that it remains that, not merely an empty ritual, which it could easily become.
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