A Saffron Independence: How BJP-RSS is Recasting August 15 in Bengal and Beyond

A Saffron Independence: How BJP-RSS is Recasting August 15 in Bengal and Beyond

Suman nath

Independence Day in India has long been a civic ritual of the Republic. Unlike religious festivals or partisan commemorations, August 15 was imagined as a national moment, where the flag-raising at Red Fort or in schoolyards and municipal offices stood for a collective belonging beyond ideological or sectarian lines. Yet, in recent years, particularly under the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and its ideological parent Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), Independence Day is undergoing a slow but visible metamorphosis. The saffron hue of Hindu nationalism has begun to seep into what was once a secular civic celebration. 

The transformation is not merely rhetorical. Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s consistent and effusive praise of the RSS — most recently in his Independence Day addresses — creates space for its reinterpretation of national identity. By foregrounding the Sangh’s claim as the "truest custodian of Indian nationalism," Modi allows the RSS-BJP ecosystem to remodel August 15 in its own image. The result is that the Independence Day we see today is less a commemoration of anti-colonial pluralism and more a stage for Hindu majoritarian identity.

This is becoming increasingly visible West Bengal, where the BJP, still seeking to consolidate its ideological presence, has turned Independence Day into another site of Hindutva experimentation.

Saffron Symbols in Civic Spaces

In many districts of Bengal, within and at the outskirts of Kolkata — August 15 this year was marked not just by flag hoisting but by rituals more commonly associated with Hindu festivals. Makeshift pandals were erected, adorned with saffron buntings alongside the tricolour. At their centre stood not the standard portrait of national leaders but clay idols of Bharat Mata, draped in saffron robes, carrying a saffron flag along with the tricolour.

In several places, the distribution of the Bhagavad Gita replaced the more familiar distribution of sweets, a subtle but telling gesture. It reframes independence as inseparable from Hindu religiosity, situating freedom not in the pluralist vision of Nehru or Ambedkar but in the cultural revivalism of the Sangh. The message was clear: to be truly Indian is to be truly Hindu.

Perhaps most striking in Bengal was the invocation of Gopal Pantha, who is being portrayed as a “protector of Hindus” in the face of Muslims during the 1946 riot. In recent years, BJP-affiliated groups have installed his effigies in Independence Day pandals, presenting him as a symbol of indigenous resistance and proto-nationalism. While Pantha’s historical memory is ambiguous and layered, the Hindutva narrative simplifies him into a Hindu warrior, whose protection of dharma foreshadowed the freedom struggle.

In this way, Independence Day in Bengal is being re-scripted as a civilizational struggle, where the fight against colonialism is reframed as part of a longer battle to assert Hindu supremacy.

Parallel Independence Days

What emerges from these practices is effectively a parallel Independence Day. In one, schoolchildren still gather to sing the national anthem, the tricolour is hoisted at administrative offices, and officials give the ritual speeches. In the other, the RSS-BJP infrastructure creates its own public stages: pandals, processions, and distribution of religious texts. The latter is designed to appeal to grassroots sentiment, where religion and politics have long been intertwined, but now with sharper edges.

The contrast is stark. While the official Independence Day foregrounds constitutional nationalism, the parallel celebration emphasizes cultural nationalism. It is not a day of remembering Gandhi’s satyagraha or Subhas Bose’s Indian National Army; instead, it becomes a day of invoking Bharat Mata, Hindu warriors, and civilizational pride.

In Bengal, this parallel celebration also serves another purpose. For decades, Independence Day was overshadowed by the Left’s narrative of class struggle and the Congress’s attachment to Nehruvian nationalism. The Trinamool Congress, for its part, has often emphasized Tagore, folk traditions, and a softer regional-cultural framing. By introducing a saffronized August 15, the BJP attempts to break into this symbolic vacuum, projecting itself as the custodian of “real” nationalism, uncontaminated by either Left atheism or TMC populism.

Modi’s Endorsement of the RSS

The Prime Minister’s role in legitimizing this reframing cannot be ignored. Modi’s annual Independence Day speeches have often foregrounded the virtues of discipline, cultural pride, and the “civilizational mission” of India, terms deeply resonant with RSS vocabulary. His public acknowledgment of the Sangh as a patriotic organization rehabilitates its historical position, erasing the fact that the RSS was conspicuously absent from the freedom struggle.

This rewriting of memory is not incidental. By linking Independence Day with RSS imagery, Modi ensures that future generations may remember the Sangh not as a fringe sectarian force but as central to the idea of India itself. In Bengal, where the RSS historically had little traction, this legitimation from the Prime Minister becomes a powerful instrument of political pedagogy.

The Saffronization of Ritual

Anthropologists of ritual often emphasize that festivals and public commemorations are never politically neutral. They are stages where symbolic meanings are contested, reaffirmed, and transformed. What the BJP and RSS are doing is to ritualize politics: they borrow the form of festival (pandal, idol, distribution, procession) and merge it with the form of civic commemoration (flag, anthem, national leaders). The hybrid ritual space thus produced is neither fully religious nor fully civic, but a new amalgam where saffron and tricolour blur.

In Bengal’s villages, where religious festivals are more familiar than civic rituals, this strategy is especially effective. A pandal with Gopal Pantha or Bharat Mata, adorned with flowers and saffron flags, feels less alien than a official flag-hoisting ceremony. By translating Independence Day into the grammar of Hindu festival, the BJP-RSS makes it emotionally resonant in a way that state rituals often fail to.

The Political Stakes

Why does this matter? At one level, the saffronization of Independence Day may seem like just another symbolic battle, akin to renaming roads or rewriting textbooks. But symbols matter. If Independence Day itself is redefined as a Hindu festival, then the very imagination of the nation is narrowed. Muslims, Christians, and others may find themselves excluded not by law but by the cultural language of belonging.

In Bengal, where Muslims form more than a quarter of the population, this exclusionary symbolism is politically charged. To distribute the Gita instead of sweets, to raise a Bharat Mata idol instead of a Nehru portrait, is to send a message: independence is not yours, it is ours. The partitioned history of Bengal, with its wounds of displacement and communal division, makes this gesture even more potent.

For the BJP, this is not just about cultural politics but electoral strategy. By turning August 15 into a Hindutva-inflected festival, the party hopes to consolidate Hindu identity across caste and class divides, much like it has attempted through Ram Navami processions. The figure of Gopal Pantha, for instance, bridges local folk memory with pan-Indian Hindutva. He is both “our own” and “one of us” in the larger Hindu pantheon of protectors.

Conclusion: A Different Freedom

Seventy-eight years after independence, the celebration of August 15 is no longer self-evident. What was once a secular civic ritual is now contested terrain. The BJP-RSS project seeks to saffronize the day, to merge it with Hindu identity, and to overwrite the pluralist anti-colonial legacy with a civilizational nationalist one.

In Bengal, this means Gita distribution instead of jilipi, Bharat Mata idols instead of national leader portraits, and Gopal Pantha as a protector-saint of Hindu India. These may look like small gestures, but together they signal the emergence of a different Independence Day — one where saffron overshadows the tricolour.

The stakes could not be higher. If Independence Day itself becomes captive to sectarian reframing, the very idea of Indian freedom risks being reduced to the freedom of one community. In celebrating independence, the nation might well be rehearsing its dependence — on the narrow script of Hindutva.

The author is a political anthropologist and teaches anthropology at GGDC, Keshiary, Paschim Medinipur, West Bengal