Opinion Vandita Mishra writes: Colonel Sofiya Qureshi in the room

The framing of that image has not gone unnoticed. It was a message, it has been said, to the terrorist, to Pakistan’s General, and to the international community, when an external enemy had to be fought and there was a need to project unity. In the terror strike in Pahalgam, the victims were men, husbands and fathers killed before their wives and children after being selected by their faith.

The attack came only days after General Asim Munir’s particularly nasty recycling of the two-nation theory. Against this backdrop, the name Operation Sindoor, and the decision to seat Colonel Qureshi on that podium, were carefully arrived at, and evocative. They sought to invoke the Indian woman’s undaunted spirit. And to announce to the world that the design of the terrorists and their handlers to stoke communal faultlines in India would not be allowed to succeed.

That two-toned message dominated the frame. Sure, there were predictable distractions — and worse. War-like postures were struck in social media and by arm-chair troopers in TV studios, including and especially in government-controlled Doordarshan. There were crude attempts by the BJP to score low blows off the Opposition, which mostly stayed with a sober and supportive script — the demand, now, for a special Parliament session on Pahalgam, Operation Sindoor and a ceasefire “first announced by US President Trump” highlights a kept-in-abeyance questioning.

On the whole, the message was of a unity that encompasses citizens of all faiths, Hindu and Muslim. In retrospect, the one-day session of the J&K assembly called by the Omar Abdullah government in the aftermath of Pahalgam, in which the Chief Minister spoke with empathy and in solidarity with grieving families across the nation, set the tone for the image featuring Colonel Qureshi at the government’s press briefings.

Now that peace has broken out, however, it need not be the image’s end. It should not be.

It could turn out that Colonel Qureshi’s presence at the high table, and her voice – even though she was only reading out from the government script — were not entirely contained by the intended symbolism, papering over internal divisions and aimed at Pakistan and the international community. It could be that there is a spill-over, beyond that moment, in domestic arenas and spaces. After all, symbols are not always, and never fully in control of those who craft and wield them. This particular symbol is potentially subversive of the dominant politics. It could ripple and resonate and tweak.

Consider the context it comes in. In its two terms so far, and almost a year into its third term, the Narendra Modi government has displayed remarkable political flexibility. Its turnaround on counting caste, by shedding its instinctive reluctance vis a vis the caste-centric politics of social justice, is the latest example. But on one issue it has remained unmoving.

Examples and patterns abound of this grim unchangingness. From framing a new citizenship law that makes religion a criterion, to the thrusting of waqf reform on the Muslim community. From refusing to give BJP tickets and ministerships to Muslim leaders/candidates — making this the first cabinet and council of ministers since Independence with no Muslim in it — to turning a blind eye to those in the party/government who indulge in hate speech and minority-baiting. From bulldozer injustice that disproportionately targets the minority to electoral slogans that stoke spectres of the Hindu-under-siege.

As a party, the BJP plays to the Muslim “Other”, and supports an abuse-machine that uses “Pakistan” for labelling and name-calling internally. For its government, the Muslim is the “labharthi”, the passive recipient of schemes, not the citizen who is entitled to a voice, representation, rights.

To be sure, a left-over image of Sofiya Qureshi from a period of military conflict will not change or rewrite that political story. No image can single-handedly do that. But if it moved the needle in a war-like moment, it sparks a question: Could it open up public space for representation of the minority in a diverse country in times of peace?

The cynic, or the realist, may point to the fact that, alongside its fundamental and unchanging political patterns, the BJP has often promoted the trope of the “good Muslim”, which feeds rather than detracts from Hindutva politics. Be it marking out Dara Shikoh from the other Mughals, or showering praise on APJ Abdul Kalam, or outreach to Sufi and Pasmanda Muslims, the BJP has gazed more softly upon those members of the minority that it certifies as “Bharatiya” or “Rashtravadi”. Doesn’t that drain the Sofiya imagery of its heartening possibilities?

There is a point there, but not a full stop, hopefully. It is true that Sofiya Qureshi wears a military uniform, and that her presence on the podium was a tactical device to counter the propaganda on communal discord in India and keep the focus on terrorism internationally. But that a government as committed as this one has been to the Hindu-isation of public spheres, gave her a role in a national moment of high-visibility — within the country, not just outside it — sends out a frisson. The Modi government knew that India, and not just the world, was watching.

It could also be that, at this juncture, the ruling party feels so confident about the consolidation of its base that it is willing to risk a symbol with many lives and multiple meanings. Even so, and at the very least, it is something to be noted: The repertoire of symbols of an enormously image-conscious party has just let a multi-edged one in.

Till next week,

Vandita