When a democratically elected leader treats a national commemoration as if it were a foreign provocation, he does more than pander to politics — he erodes the fragile trust that binds the Union. Jammu & Kashmir Chief Minister Omar Abdullah’s decision to withhold permission for schools in the Union Territory to mark the 150th anniversary of “Vande Mataram” is not merely tone-deaf: it is a self-inflicted wound on national unity at a time when symbols matter more than ever.
Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay’s stirring hymn — adopted by the Constituent Assembly as India’s national song on January 24, 1950 — is far more than ritual. It was the clarion call of India’s freedom movement, a cultural touchstone that transcends region, language, and creed. That is why the Narendra Modi government’s decision to commemorate its 150th anniversary with a year-long celebration is both fitting and profound. This observance is not merely about nostalgia; it is about history, memory, and identity — and about the shared civic spirit every leader in a secular republic is duty-bound to uphold.
Omar’s explanation — that Jammu & Kashmir’s schools should not be subject to “outside dictation” — reads like a thinly-veiled dodge. Local administrations rightly guard educational priorities from heavy-handed central interference. But there is a difference between asserting administrative autonomy and refusing to permit the teaching or celebration of a national song whose place in India’s constitutional and cultural life is settled. The Constituent Assembly itself placed “Vande Mataram” alongside other national emblems; it is not a partisan symbol to be shelved for convenience.
Let us be blunt: the abrogation of Article 370 in August 2019 — a decisive step to fully integrate Jammu & Kashmir into the Republic — was contested, litigated, and finally sustained by the nation’s highest court. The Supreme Court’s reasoning reaffirmed the Union’s authority to legislate for the former state and removed the legal fog that once shrouded Centre-UT relations. In this constitutional reality, public acts that affirm national unity are not merely ceremonial — they are expressions of the political compact that now binds J&K to India. To treat them as optional is to flirt with disunion.
There is also a practical danger in Omar’s stance. In recent days Muslim bodies and local religious leaders have expressed objections over certain forms of the event, underscoring the sensitivities involved. But the right response to communal unease is leadership that persuades, explains, and adapts — not reflexive refusal. Schools are places to teach history with nuance; to insist on cancelling a national commemoration outright hands the moral high ground to those who wish to weaponize difference.
Political convenience cannot be the lodestar of governance. If Omar Abdullah fears backlash in certain constituencies, he should confront that fear with clarity — explain to parents and teachers what “Vande Mataram” means, how it sits in India’s plural history, and how its recitation in schools can be framed sensitively. If he objects to the Centre’s mode of rollout, raise the point in the councils where such disagreements are resolved. Governance offers institutions for debate; unilateral rejection does not. It merely widens the trust deficit.
Make no mistake: asking J&K’s children to learn a national song is not an assault on identity. It is an invitation to belong. Leaders who refuse that invitation — whether out of nostalgia for a fractured past or out of present-day political expediency — will find themselves judged harshly by history and electorally by the public whose trust they squander.
Omar must do the sensible thing: rescind the ban, open a dialogue with teachers and community leaders, and let schools mark the 150th with dignity and context. If he does not, he risks more than criticism — he risks alienating the very people who must be brought into the mainstream of India’s civic life. That, in the end, will be a consequence of his own making.
