In June 2025, Kerala found itself at the heart of a constitutional and cultural storm — one that began not with a legislative action or executive order, but with a portrait. A saffron-draped figure of Bharathamba mounted on a lion, holding aloft a saffron flag, suddenly took centre stage in the official events at the Raj Bhavan under Governor Rajendra Viswanath Arlekar. The Governor’s insistence on placing this image on the dais at public events, including those jointly hosted with the state government, ignited a wave of protest, culminating in boycotts and walkouts by ministers, students, and civil society groups.
While it may appear to be a harmless patriotic gesture, the symbolism tells a different story. The image, strongly associated with the Sangh Parivar’s ideological vision, is not recognised by the Constitution, nor does it command consensual national acknowledgement. Its insertion into state functions raises uncomfortable questions: Can a constitutional functionary impose cultural-religious iconography upon a secular, plural polity? Can symbolism trump constitutionalism?
We are witnessing the constitutionalisation of ideology through imagery — an attempt to replace civic nationalism with cultural majoritarianism. It must be viewed as emblematic of a deeper ideological project, as a symbolic act of ideological colonisation, with far-reaching implications for federalism, secularism, and democratic governance.
Governor’s role
The role of the Governor was clearly defined by the makers of the Constitution. Article 163 of the Constitution states, “There shall be a Council of Ministers with the Chief Minister at the head to aid and advise the Governor in the exercise of his functions…” Ambedkar, during Constituent Assembly debates, while referring to the Governor’s position as “ornamental”, reiterated it and said, “He has no functions which he can discharge by himself… he is required to follow the advice of his Ministry in all matters.” The Supreme Court, in landmark decisions such as Shamsher Singh v State of Punjab (1974) reaffirmed that the Governor is a titular head and not an independent executive authority, but a constitutional functionary bound by the democratic mandate of the people.
Yet, in recent years, particularly under the BJP-led Centre, Raj Bhavans have increasingly transformed into ideological outposts of the Centre, especially in Opposition-ruled states. From stalling bills to summoning VCs and now dictating the aesthetics of public functions, Governors have been acting more as federal agents than custodians of the Constitution.
This centralising trend runs contrary to the federal spirit upheld by the SC in SR Bommai (1994), a case which cautioned against the misuse of Article 356 to destabilise state governments. More recently, in the Tamil Nadu case, the Court reasserted that Governors cannot indefinitely withhold assent to state legislation.
Kerala’s recent Governors have courted controversy for their confrontations with the elected government, but the insistence on a particular religious-cultural symbol, the portrait in this case, marks an escalation.
Bharathamba: From allegory to ideology
The image of Bharat Mata has its roots in nationalist art from the early 20th century. One of the earliest depictions, by Bengali artist Abanindranath Tagore in 1905, presented a serene, saffron-clad woman offering food, clothing, and learning, symbolising benevolence and motherly care rather than militaristic fervour. There was no lion by her side, no saffron flag, and nothing resembling a goddess. She stood as an allegorical figure, not a divine icon demanding worship. Tagore’s portrayal reflected the Swadeshi movement’s ideals. It was inclusive, aiming to unify people across religious and regional identities without leaning into sectarian imagery. In one curious pre-Independence instance, the Swadeshi Cotton Mills ran an advertisement showing Bharat Mata (without the current saffron flag or lion) evocatively stretching from Burma to Afghanistan. This image — fluid, commercial, and imaginative —underscores how the portrait was never a settled or statutorily recognised emblem.
However, the RSS and other affiliates of the Sangh Parivar appropriated the symbol in later decades, reinterpreting Bharat Mata in more overtly religious and martial tones — sword-bearing, a lion by her side, a saffron flag in her hand, and the subcontinent often depicted behind her, adorned with saffron regalia in the conventional Hindutva framework. The portrait now at the centre of the Kerala controversy reflects that later iteration, not Tagore’s.
Legal and constitutional (in)validity
Notably, there is no constitutional or statutory recognition of any Bharat Mata image. Nowhere is such an image mentioned — let alone mandated — for public or state functions. By attempting to impose it, the Governor disregards constitutional propriety and encroaches upon the religious and ideological diversity of the nation.
The Constitution and other statutes confer official status only on the national flag, the Constitution, government emblems, the national anthem, etc. These are codified in the Emblems and Names (Prevention of Improper Use) Act, 1950, and the Prevention of Insults to National Honour Act, 1971. There is no statute or constitutional provision that codifies the Bharatamba portrait as a state symbol. Any attempt to enforce unofficial symbols on official platforms runs contrary to the secular and pluralistic ethos of our nation.
In Bijoe Emmanuel & Ors v State of Kerala & Ors (1986), the SC protected three Jehovah’s Witnesses students from being expelled for refusing to sing even the national anthem, observing that “the real test of a true democracy is the ability of even an insignificant minority to find its identity under the country’s Constitution.” When a Governor promotes one religion-tinged ideology over others, it undermines the secularism and federal balance protected under the “basic structure doctrine”.
A larger political design
Kerala has long withstood the tides of communal politics. With high human development indices, strong civil society movements, communal harmony, and a politically aware electorate, the state has resisted the so-called saffron wave more effectively than most Indian states. It defies homogenising agendas based on religious chauvinism.
But in recent years, the Sangh Parivar has tested a new strategy of deliberate provocation — introducing controversial themes to divide public opinion.
It is now essential to distinguish legitimate patriotism from weaponised ultra-nationalism. The former unites; the latter divides. The image of Bharathamba is not the problem. The problem lies in its enforced singularity, its ideological baggage, and its displacing of democratic, constitutional plurality. The real Mata that all of India must revere is the Constitution, which guarantees equality, secularism, and dignity to all its children.
The writer is a CPI (M) Rajya Sabha Member. With inputs from Aneesh Babu, a research associate
Kerala’s recent Governors have courted controversy for their confrontations with the elected government, but the insistence on a particular religious-cultural symbol, the portrait, marks an escalation. 
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