
Republic Day 2026 and the civilisational return of Vande Mataram
The new Bharat presented itself to the world on the morning of January 26 (the night of January 25 in the United States), as its 77th Republic Day was celebrated on Kartavya Path. A spectacle of precision marching, advanced military hardware, and aerial formations projected the confidence of a nation fully aware of its strategic global standing.
Then, almost quietly, the centre of gravity shifted with the opening notes of Vande Mataram, known to generations with only the first two stanzas.
Dancers from every state and Union Territory stepped forward in a mesmerising, colourful, and unified choreography. This was not merely a cultural interlude accompanying the parade; it reasserted a long-muted civilisational memory of Vande Mataram, one I had come to appreciate more deeply during my recent trip to Bharat in November.
A sesquicentenary marked with intent
The performance marked the 150th anniversary of Vande Mataram, first published in 1875 by Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay. The milestone was framed not as nostalgia, but as deliberate cultural remembrance and recalibration in a new Bharat.
The Union Ministry of Culture’s tableau, “Vande Mataram: Swatantrata ka Mantra,” traced the song’s journey from literary creation to freedom chant. Installations along Kartavya Path displayed all six stanzas of the song, reproductions of the original manuscript, and rare 1923 illustrations by Tejendra Kumar Mitra from the Bande Mataram Album (Ministry of Culture, Government of India, Vande Mataram: Swatantrata ka Mantra – Republic Day Tableau Note, 2026).
The message was unmistakable: Vande Mataram was being restored to its full historical and civilisational frame, not confined to a ceremonial excerpt.
Completeness, not just spectacle
While Vande Mataram has been sung many times before, January 26 felt different, not only in scale, but in its cultural and civilisational completeness.
Classical and folk traditions blended seamlessly with contemporary expression. Younger performers moved alongside seasoned artistes. The choreography suggested continuity rather than revival, conveying that the song had not disappeared; it had simply awaited the right historical moment.
As the world watched Bharat’s military precision and organisational scale, Vande Mataram delivered a more enduring message: power without memory is hollow.
Recovering a forgotten sound
Questions of memory, what endures and what quietly recedes, inevitably led me to the work of Akhilesh Jha, whom I had the opportunity to meet in November. During our interaction, he shared the deeper history of Vande Mataram, informed by his own extensive research.
A civil servant and cultural archivist, Jha has spent years studying India’s gramophone history, documenting how early sound recordings carried nationalist ideas long before mass radio or cinema. Among his most significant contributions is the preservation of a rare early-20th-century gramophone recording of Vande Mataram, believed to date to 1905, recorded in London and rendered in Raag Malhar (Akhilesh Jha, archival research and public lectures on India’s gramophone history; see also The Times of India, Listening in: Story of Vande Mataram, 2025).
The recording reveals a different register of the song, urgent, restrained, and unmistakably political. This was Vande Mataram, meant to awaken Indians during British rule, not merely accompany ceremonial occasions.
When history reached the present
In a publicly documented interaction, Jha presented this rare gramophone recording to Prime Minister Narendra Modi[1]. Jha possibly explained how early sound technology enabled Vande Mataram to travel across borders, shape nationalist consciousness, and lodge itself in the emotional core of the freedom movement.
The Prime Minister’s engagement with this archival history helps explain why the 150th-anniversary commemoration unfolded as it did, layered, expansive, and rooted in recovery rather than revision. A year-long celebration, including an exhibition, a significant parliamentary acknowledgement, and finally the spectacle on Kartavya Path, amounts to a cultural revival[2].

Cinema, memory, and a common assumption
In the decades following Independence, patriotic Hindi cinema played a powerful role in shaping public sentiment. Films such as Jagriti (1954) embedded nationalist emotion so effectively that popular memory often conflated cinematic patriotism with the original Vande Mataram. Growing up, the song using Vande Mataram in the movie was etched in our memory, not knowing it was a song dating back 150 years.
I surmise it is not a distortion by design. It was a substitution born of archival absence and reaching the masses through the cinematic media in the 1950s.
The rediscovery of early recordings restores historical sequence, placing later cultural expressions in context without diminishing their emotional resonance.
Four stanzas and the Constitution
The exclusion of four stanzas from official usage has often been described as suppression. The historical record seems to suggest otherwise, but open for discussion.
The later stanzas of Vande Mataram invoke Hindu devotional imagery within the narrative framework of Anandamath. In 1937, the Indian National Congress resolved that only the first two stanzas would be sung at official functions.
In 1950, the Constituent Assembly accorded Vande Mataram the status of National Song, while adopting Jana Gana Mana as the National Anthem, explicitly stating that both command equal respect.
It is reasonable to conclude that the intent may not have been to ban the full song, but limit its constitutional usage, given the political sensitivities of the time, and fearing that the religious imagery in the later stanzas could invoke religious strife.
Culture and Constitution, held together
This moment on Kartavya Path echoed a broader theme I explored in a recent PGurus article on the State of Bharat that India is entering a phase where civilisational memory and constitutional discipline are no longer treated as opposing forces[3].
What once required careful separation is now being held together with greater ease, reflecting a Republic more secure in both its identity and its institutions. Prime Minister Modi’s decision to commemorate Vande Mataram @ 150 signals something more mature: a confidence that allows remembrance without compulsion, and revival without provocation.
The world watched India
As images from Kartavya Path travelled across global screens, the world saw more than Bharat’s military capability or organisational scale. It witnessed a civilisation increasingly at ease with itself, gradually shedding the long shadow of imperial rule, and capable of holding strength and culture together rather than in competition.
Vande Mataram at 150 is an affirmation of continuity. A Republic secure enough to remember fully and confident enough to let the world watch.
Whatever the political rhetoric of the past or the debates of the present, the decision to play Vande Mataram in its fullness during the Republic Day parade was of both historical significance and cultural revitalisation.
Note:
1. Text in Blue points to additional data on the topic.
2. The views expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily represent or reflect the views of PGurus.
3. The ChatGPT-enabled research was used in this article.
Reference:
[1] Bureaucrat Couple’s Gramophone Archive Wins PM Modi’s Attention – Nov 10, 2025, Legend Officers
[2] PM to launch year-long celebrations of 150 years of ‘Vande Mataram’ – Nov 07, 2025, The Indian Express
[3] The State of Bharat today – Jan 22, 2026, PGurus.com
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- Vande Mataram @ 150: Culture, constitution, and a confident India - January 27, 2026
- India has outgrown Western paternalism - January 25, 2026
- The State of Bharat today - January 22, 2026









